Tokyo Ghoul: The Loss
by Ryanneilc
Summary: Tokyo Ghoul: The Loss is a tale of tragedy and loss of humanity.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Dante was awoken by the sudden force of weight thrown onto him. He yelped as he opened his eyes suddenly, and looked down at the figure who lay atop him in his jungle of sheets and pillows that he called his bed.

"Did I hurt the poor baby?" said the figure, with a voice Dante could not bring himself to forget, even if he wanted to.

"Marissa" whispered Dante, either from loss of air or being half asleep, "I thought we had agreed no "wrestling" first thing in the morning?"

"Keep dreaming, _il mio amore"_ she said with a smirk and planted a quick, loving kiss on the tip of his nose. "Oh yeah, also, it's actually 1 in the afternoon. So, technically it isn't first thing in the morning." She flashed a smile that shined with victory, and rested her head on Dante's chest. Dante noticed that her hair was slightly damp, and smelled of his favorite scent, vanilla. He inquired that she must have just gotten out of the shower, so she must have woken up not long ago as well.

"Don't you seem eager to tackle the day?" Dante said with a teasing tone and smiled at her as she looked up with the sound of his voice.

She smiled. "Well, it isn't every day that I get to be with my fiancé for an entire week. My family will still be gone for the rest of the day, so I want to spend my last day of vacation with my favorite grump."

At that, Dante scowled and thumped her forehead playfully. "You would be grouchy if I jumped on you, wet and half dressed, as well, _principessa._ "

"No, just a little teased is all" she said and squeezed his left cheek. "Now get yourself up and ready, we have a lot on our agenda today. I want to make this last day with you count." She lifted herself up off of him slightly, but was pulled back down almost immediately when he wrapped his arms around her back. "Can we not just enjoy each other in this bed of mine? Personally, I have no objections to that idea. Plus, I wouldn't have to spend all my hard earned money at one time."

She pinched his chest and laughed at him, "Hard earned money? Oh please, as if being paid to be beautiful and sing like an angel can be considered hard work." Dante lifted her up off of him carefully, and placed her next to him "Well, someone has to play the role of an angel in this hellhole. However, luckily enough for you, I can be an angel and a demon. In certain circumstances." He said as he rubbed his nose against hers and brushed a swift kiss on her lips. Much to his dismay though, Dante knew he really did have to get out of bed. So, he was forced to cut his kiss short, and leapt out of bed and headed for the shower.

"I would invite you to join me, but it seems like you already beat me to it" He said and stuck his tongue out at her and winked.

"Oh, well, being twice as clean never hurt anyone." She said with a smirk.

"You know, I really do believe I prefer the _Basilca di San Zeno Maggiore_ over the _Duomo of Verona_ " Marissa said as she and Dante walked down a surprisingly underpopulated street in Verona. "Something about how elegant all the artwork, and architecture is just makes my heart skip beats."

Dante gazed at her curiously. "Well, you and the _Basilca_ do have elegance in common, _il mio amore._ " He said and lifted their interlaced hands up to kiss the back of her ring-finger, where the ring he had saved up six months of tips to buy for her was. At that, she could not help but smile and said "You must really be trying to get brownie points today, Dante. Did someone spike your wine after the shower to make you extra sweet? Because you're normally only so sweet when you're drunk out of your mind."

"Or maybe I just wanted to make sure this day was as special for you as possible?" He said to her in a pretend slurred voice. "Who knows when the next time I'll get to be with you for this long will be? I want to just make every moment count, is all."

The wind had suddenly picked up a bit, and blew Marissa's beige sundress and her long, dark brown hair back, somehow still elegantly. Dante had always thought she was beautiful, but something about her today made her seem especially so. Her dark brown eyes that could hypnotize a man of weaker resolve. Her long, flowing, and soft like silk hair that made Dante ache to run his fingers through it. Her skin that had been kissed so much by the sun that it was only second to Dante himself. However, the one feature about her that always melted Dante's heart and brought him back to square one, was her smile. Dante could just not bring himself to be upset or angry with her after she flashed that smile at him. She had perfect lips, and her teeth seemed like pearls with how white and well taken care of they were.

When he truly sat and stared at Marissa, Dante was at odds at how much she was settling to be with him. Not only was she beautiful in every way, but she was also so kind and gentle. She was always so in touch with herself, and showed sympathy to anyone who came and asked it of her. Whereas Dante could hardly handle his own emotions, and was naturally skeptical of everyone and rather a bit of a pessimist. However, being around Marissa made him feel like he had a purpose. She made him feel like he had a reason for being alive and where he was at all times.

He remembered the night he had first met her. He was playing at a local bar, singing songs he had written about nothing and everything at the same time, and through everyone in the crowd, he saw her watching him from a seat at the bar. He temporarily lost his focus and slurred out something he hadn't meant to say, but regained his composure. He had flushed with embarrassment as he saw her giggling to herself. He walked up to her after the show and begged for her to go out with him on a date, and after thirty minutes of skeptical arguing, she agreed. Within three months, they had seen each other every day, and had become serious about each other. 3 years later, Dante had decided to propose to her, as her knew he wanted nothing more than to be by her side always, and she too wanted nothing else.

"Dante?" Marissa said, and Dante snapped back to attention. "Are you feeling sick?"

"Oh, no, I was just… thinking is all, Marissa." Dante said, scratching the back of his somewhat shaggy dark hair.

"You know, you musicians really do have a bad habit of losing yourselves in thought." She said and squeezed his hand lightly, further cementing Dante in the present.

He looked at her and smiled. "I was just thinking about how we met, and wondering how you've been able to put up with me this long, _principessa."_

She grinned from ear to ear, "Maybe I should just come around less to keep you this sweet all the time?" Dante made a pouting face at that, and pinched her arm. "Keep dreaming, _il mio amore_ " he said mockingly, and kissed her tenderly and lovingly. However, their kiss was interrupted again by a stranger bumping into Dante.

"Oh, I'm so sorry guys." Said a middle aged looking man who had his hair pulled back into short ponytail. The man was at least six feet tall and was very broad-shouldered. He wore a white suit with a black shirt under it, and had what appeared to be a knapsack on his back. If not for his suit, Dante would've imagined him to be homeless. "I was totally in my own world back there. I hope you both have wonderful rest of your day!"

Dante nodded at him as he walked away, and averted his eyes back to Marissa. "You know, we really do seem to have the worst luck today." He said with a sigh. She laughed and pinched his nose.

"Maybe we should just grab something to eat and head back home? It's getting a bit late, and meeting strangers makes me hungry."

Dante rolled his eyes playfully. "You're always hungry, you turd."

"Is that a problem?" Marissa asked with narrowed eyes. Dante chuckled at her angry face, and put his arm over her shoulder as they walked down the street.

"Please tell me what exactly you thought would be romantic about taking me to a bar, Dante?" Marissa asked as she cut into a freshly made salad. Dante looked at her with humor in his eyes and asked "Do you not remember this place, Marissa?" She shook her head, and Dante pointed to the ring on her finger. "There's your hint, _il mio amore._ "

Marissa's mind went back to that night three months ago, and suddenly remembered how the events transpired, as if they had happened only yesterday. Dante had been playing a set, as always on every other weekend and it all seemed like any normal night to her. It did, until Dante beckoned for her to come on stage with him to sing a song for her personally. He had picked the most cliché of songs, but it was rather a dirty pleasure of hers to see the man she loved more than the world sing about something as complex as his feelings for her. He sang he crafted specifically for her, and got on his knees during the chorus and proposed to her in front of all twenty members of his audience. He had trapped her into saying yes, the devious angel he was. Not that she would've turned him down anyways.

"Dante, are you sure about getting married on September eleventh?"

Dante looked up from his plate of a perfectly cooked steak and gave her a curious look. "Having second thoughts? I think it's a little late to want to keep enjoying the single life, Marissa."

"No. No, no, no, no. Not in a million years. I just think it's a little weird we're going to be celebrating a marriage while all the Americans are thinking about something so tragic." She laughed. "I just think it's the worst kind of irony."

"Believe it or not, I actually had family who died in that plane crash…or so my father told me." Dante said calmly. "So I kind of wanted to have something happy to happen that day to distract me from moping all day. And I couldn't think of anything that makes me happier than being with you, Marissa." She smiled and tussled his hair a small bit, not exactly having much of an impact on it. "Oh shut up, you big sap."

As they finished both of their plates and wine, Dante thought he had caught a glimpse of the man that had bumped into him earlier. He dismissed the thought almost instantly, as he thought he shouldn't be dwelling on it while the love of his life was with him. Sadness enveloped him as he was reminded that they would only be together for another few hours. They had been in the bar for what felt like only thirty minutes, but it was actually already nine in the afternoon. As the waiter came, Dante paid for their food, against Marissa's arguing, and they headed out to go back to Dante's apartment, to enjoy their last night together in solitude finally.

As they were walking, Marissa stopped in front of an alley and looked Dante in the eyes shaking slightly. Dante already knew what she was going to say.

"Dante… do we have to go through there?" Marissa knew there was no other way to get back to his apartment, but there had been a break in the amount of abductions from ghouls lately. In Verona, there was allegedly a single ghoul who was hunting down random people at night, and abducting them, only to hang their bodies in the middle of a different public area with each abduction. The bodies had been cut in many different places, with what could have been caused by a multitude of things, from a knife or some other sharp object. Some had all of their bones broken, but the worst that had been seen yet was a pair of bodies, a mother and child, who had been burned from the neck down and had had their ears, tongue, and eyes cut out. However, each body did have one thing in common. They all had a single "M" carved over their right wrist. The Italian CCG had yet to decipher any sort of meaning behind the placement or letter choice, but they had come to the conclusion to just call him " _Il Messaggero di Morte_ ".

The Messenger of Death.

Dante looked at Marissa with sympathetic eyes, and tried to hide his shared paranoia, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Don't worry so much, as if your knight in shining armor would let any old Ghoul attack you." He kissed her hand and placed his forehead on hers. "I am here to protect you Marissa, and I will never let anyone or anything ever harm you. If they hurt you, then they hurt me as well. Our marriage isn't official until September, but you have been a part of me since I first laid eyes on you. You are my heart, soul, the light in my eyes, and you are the one person who makes me feel like I have a purpose here on this earth. I was born to be with you, and it is my role to protect you. I wouldn't want it any other way." He leaned his jaw over and kissed her for what felt like an eternity. "I love you, Marissa di Angelo."

Marissa smiled a smile that sent shivers down Dante's back. "And I love you, my noble knight, Dante di Angelo." She reached up behind her neck, and grabbed the necklace she always wore, and took it off. It was a bronze necklace that had an anchor pendent at the end. Marissa always told Dante she wore it keep her head on her shoulders, and he always thought it was the cutest form of cliché, but it suited her perfectly.

"I want you to have this, to remember me by, and to keep that confident head of yours out of the clouds." She said as she reached over Dante's head and placed it around his neck. The actual necklace part of it was quite long for necklace standards, and hung down past the middle of his chest. He almost felt like refusing to take it, but he knew the sentiment behind the gesture and couldn't bring himself to refuse. Her generosity was another thing that had drawn Dante to her, and it made her even harder to resist.

"A gift from my princess? As if I could ever refuse." He smiled and rubbed the anchor with his free hand. "I'll just have to touch this when I'm alone at night and missing you. It'll be like a small piece of you is still with me." At that, she kissed him again and rubbed a hand through his tussled hair.

"Not only that." She pointed a gentle and thin finger to his chest. "I'll always be in your heart as well. Distance may come between us, but we will forever be together in our hearts and memories. Even in death, we will live on in each other." Dante pulled her close, and embraced her tightly.

"You know just the right clichés to say. But let's not think about dying right now. Our lives have yet to truly begin, _principessa._ "

As they walked down the alley, Dante could not help but begin to feel a bit drowsy. He stumbled a bit, but Marissa was there to catch him. He looked at her sheepishly. "My knight in shining armor." She rolled her eyes, and just assumed Dante had had a little too much wine tonight. A few blocks later however, Marissa felt the same sort of dizziness, and they both fell immediately to the ground. Marissa was the first to get back on her feet, but as Dante looked up, he could see a shadowy figure approaching them from a dimly lit alley behind Marissa. He tried to yell, or warn her to look behind her and run, but his mouth would not open. His tongue felt swollen, and his jaw was set. He could taste a bit of blood in his mouth from the fall, and could see the shadowy figure only a few feet behind Marissa. The figure broke into a run, faster than any Olympic sprinter, and was instantly behind Marissa. As she turned around, the figure delivered a swift and powerful punch to her temple and knocked her out cleanly. Dante's eyes went as wide as possible, and a muffled cry that sounded like a wounded animal came out of his throat. The figure grabbed Marissa by the hair and began to drag her unconscious body into the alley, until they became enveloped in darkness, and Dante had lost sight of them.

Thirty minutes passed as Dante lay completely paralyzed in the middle of the road, the image of the love of his life being dragged away from him by a stranger hidden in the dark. His only thought being about how powerless he was. That he had just laid in the road, and not tried hard enough to make a sound, or do anything to help Marissa. He had promised her he would protect her from this world, but now the world had taken her from him.

Actually, not the world. One person specifically. One man who was too afraid to be seen in the light. Feeling had begun to work its way through Dante's jaw, as he saw a familiar shadow moving slowly through the darkness toward him. Dante could not move quite yet, but his eyes were set directly on the figure, all the malice and bloodlust he could muster being present in the glare he was giving him. Dante did not consider himself a hateful person, and he had never even gotten into a fight with someone before, but he wanted nothing more than to kill whoever this figure might be, and take back the light which had been stolen from him.

When the figure made it to where Dante laid, he stood directly over Dante. His presence was very ominous, and it actually made Dante shiver, from fear or pure hatred. He could not tell at the time, but with the angle he stood at, Dante could not see his face. It was covered completely by shadow, with the exception of a single eye. An eye that nearly blended in with the darkness, only separated by the glimmering of red on the iris that appeared to be the shade of blood flowing freely. When Dante saw this, he knew exactly who he was facing. He was laying at the feet of a ghoul, but not just any ghoul.

He was at the mercy of _Il Messaggero di Morte._

Dante began to open his mouth to scream some sort of explicative at the ghoul, but before he could mutter anything the ghoul brought down his foot on Dante's head with a force that could have shattered stone, and knocked Dante out.

As Dante's vision began to blacken, he wondered if this was what death felt like. The grim reaper had sent his most powerful of agents to him, and now Death had began to wrap its arms around him. The last thought Dante had was of Marissa, and if he would be able to meet her in the afterlife, if there actually was one. He was never a religious person, as he thought people were only religious until they did not need to be, but in that moment he cried and begged to a God he did not believe in to not separate him from the one angel he had known in his life, or to at least spare her from the Hell he knew he was damned to be in, and to allow her to look down on him and protect him further more. He pictured her with a white gown on, with wide, white, feathery wings behind her and the a bright burning light that blazed behind with the gates of Heaven opening up to allow her to watch his death. However, the one thing he noticed after all that was that even in death, she was wearing the wedding ring he slaved his life away to buy her. Then, like a scene in a tragedy, she smiled. And with that, Dante embraced the darkness, and lost his will to live. His world went to black as he heard what sounded like the scraping of leather across the street in which he laid in. 

When Dante opened his eyes again, he was struck by a gloriously white light. At first, he thought maybe he had somehow snuck his way into Heaven, but that suspension of belief was shattered once his eyes adjusted. The light source was coming from a surgical light hanging high above him, and when he tried to pull himself upright, he could not bring himself to do so. He could not even lift his head up completely, but could feel the chill of cold metal on his neck and around his wrists and ankles. He somehow managed to turn his head at a slight angle to see his surroundings. He was somehow bolted down onto a table in the middle of a dimly lit room that reeked of blood and rusting metal. He had had his shirt ripped open and had his pants legs cut halfway up to his knees. He began to struggle to try and break free of his restraints, but it was to no avail.

When he finished, Dante heard the loud creaking of a metal door sliding open on the other side of him. The figure who had attacked Marissa was walking into the room with a hood concealing his face and an entirely black attire, obviously meant to help him in hiding in the shadows. He was sliding a medium sized cart in front of him, and the squeaking of the wheels led Dante to believe that the cart had been used to its limit. When the figure arrived next to Dante, it removed its hood to reveal long and rather sweaty brown hair. It hung in his face, as to further hide his true identity from Dante. When Dante looked down at the cart, he felt a shiver rush through his body and his eyes widen with fear. On the cart lay five rusted, from what he assumed was from blood, scalpels and knives. There was also a hammer, a pair of pliers, and even a small blowtorch, with some other tools he could not name.

"I wasn't expecting you to come to so quickly" came the gravelly voice of the figure. "How unfortunate for you, I suppose." The figure reached onto the lower shelf on his cart and began to wrap a laboratory apron around him. Dante noticed that his voice sounded a bit muffled, as if he was wearing a mask over his mouth. "By now, I can assume you know who I am. If not, then there's no worries. Because I know exactly who you are, Dante di Angelo" said the figure as he stretched on some lime green surgery gloves. Of course Dante had an idea of who he was, but as much as Dante would have loved to scream and call him other things, The Messenger's presence and Dante's current position kept him from uttering even the smallest phrase.

"What are your favorite types of movies, Dante?" asked The Messenger. "Personally, I find myself constantly coming back to horror and slasher movies. But more specifically, torture flicks always get my blood boiling in just the right way." He chuckled deeply and sadistically. "Something about the sight of blood on the floor, and the sounds of bones breaking or screams of anguish make me grin from ear to ear. The only light I need in this life of mine is that of my lamp off of my blades." He ran his gloved hand down the side of one of the blades, and then slid its side down Dante's cheek. "What's wrong Dante? Cat got your tongue?"

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Dante managed to let his voice escape him. "I think I actually prefer comedies. However, I do enjoy a good horror flick every now and again." He could feel sweat running down his face from the surgical lighting above him. "But these questions don't exactly shed light on why you took me."

The Messenger laughed maniacally. "Even on your near deathbed, you still find it in your power to be sarcastic. I'm going to enjoy playing with you, Little Dante." Dante could feel his heart shake from the sadistic tones in The Messenger's voice. "Now, I have one more question before we begin the games, Dante. Do you have anyone you consider to be your idol?"

The thought of having a role model never really had crossed Dante's mind before this. "Well, if I have to pick someone, I think Dave Grohl inspired me a lot musically, but I try to be my own role model as a human being."

The Messenger began to pace in a circle around Dante. "That's good to know. I'll be sure to write that down when I remember this ten years from now." Dante could not see it, but he knew The Messenger was smiling a sinister smile beneath that hair. "My hero is a little bit different though. See, a while back, there was this ghoul who resided in the thirteenth district of Japan. This ghoul was special however. He was abducted from his home and subjected to severe cases of physical and mental torture at the hands of an insane surgeon. However, one day, he escaped and consumed the surgeon. And once he got back out into the real world, he vowed to do to others the very same treatment he had gotten. While in those months of being tortured, he lost a screw and had developed a fetish for inflicting pain onto others. That ghoul went by the name "Jason"." The Messenger took a moment to gather his thoughts. "A man like that, with the resolve to constantly abduct and harm others without feeling an ounce of remorse is more deserving of praise than any god or soldier."

Dante tensed his body, and felt the strain of his restraints on his wrists and ankles. "You see, Dante that kind of man is the kind of person I strive to be like. He went by the alias of a famous slasher, and I have been doing the same. The morons in the CCG just have yet to realize it." The Messenger bent down directly over Dante's head, letting his long hair fall from his face down to Dante's. "My name is _Michael_." The Messenger said and Dante realized what lay underneath his hair and why his voice had sounded muffled. Behind Michael's hair was an expressionless white face mask with hair sticking out of the top in a rather unorderly fashion. Instantly, Dante recognized it.

Michael was wearing the mask of Michael Myers from Halloween.

Dante stared, wide eyed, into the black and red eyes of his capturer. "Now, I hope you don't mind Dante, but I would like to begin our games. I know you're just going to love this first one." Michael said as he picked up a rustic pair of pliers. "See, with these, I'm going to slowly pull off one of your finger and toe nails. However, if you scream, I'm going to burn a random place on your body until you stop." Michael said calmly as he popped his neck.

"Let the games begin."

Dante felt his entire body begin to shake uncontrollably from the pliers as they gripped down onto this left thumbnail. It took every ounce of his strength not to scream as Michael slowly, and agonizingly pulled the nail out of his thumb. He tried desperately to break the restraints on his arm, knowing it would only lead nowhere. He could feel tears running down his face, along with blood as he bit his lip to keep from screaming. When he looked down at his thumb, all he saw was a red and bloody mess from where the nail had been. His hand began to twitch uncontrollably, and Dante could see Michael moving down to his feet. If his thumbnail was this bad, he could not imagine the excruciation his big toe was going to go through. When he felt the pliers on his toenail, he did everything he could to prepare for this mentally. However, as soon as the process was halfway through, Dante let out a wail that would have sent shivers down a grown man's spine. His toe nail was only half way out, but he could not contain his pain any longer. Michael stopped for a moment, but then pulled the rest of his nail out with a powerful jerk. Dante yelled even louder this time. To his surprise, the speed of his nails removal changed little to nothing. Michael looked at him with a disappointed face.

"You disappoint me Dante." Michael said as he shook his solemnly. "I really didn't think you would crack this early, but you should know that I am a man of my word." Michael then walked over to his cart and grabbed a thin iron rod and his blowtorch.

"No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…" Dante muttered as Michael began to heat up the rod with the torch. Michael began to laugh sadistically and hung his head backwards. "I warned you this would happen, Dante. I warned you, and you thought I was full of shit. Now, let me take from you Dante." Michael forcefully stuck the heated rod onto Dante's bare chest. Dante began to wail again, maniacally and uncontrollably. His body began to spasm and he could feel his vision becoming warped. His thoughts became scrambled, and he could feel the rod pressing deeper into his skin, burning away and destroying the skin beneath it.

He thought maybe at some point the rod would soon reach his sternum and melt that as well. He wanted so badly to find the strength to quite his screams, but he had lost control of himself.

 _"I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die… I can't do this… I'm gonna die… He's gonna… kill me…"_ Dante thought as he began to lose grip on reality again. Within one minute and thirty seconds of having the rod on him, Dante began to lose his will to stay conscious and began to see the dark grow from the edges of his eyes. His screams began to quiet down, but only because he had already lost consciousness. Now, Dante wanted nothing more to lie in Death's arms, rather than living through Michael's sick fetish. At least when he was unconscious, Dante could pretend to be dead.

Dante knew not if he was in a dream or not, but all he saw when he opened his eyes was darkness. He had fallen into a sea of black, and was truly alone at last. He had no desire to move, and let the darkness carry him as he sank deeper into the abyss. This was not at all how he had pictured the end of his life would be. He had dreamed of dying embracing or being held with Marissa. When his mind began to dwell on her, he realized something. Marissa would not want him to give in now. She would want him to live on.

Dante felt the cold rush of water being splashed on his body and popped his eyes open and screamed. When he opened his eyes, he saw Michael holding a bucket and they were still in the same room as before. He let out a disappointed sigh and laid his head back down on the table. "Damn, I thought maybe I had really escaped you."

Michael laughed. "You can only dream my friend." Dante noticed he was carrying a chain in his other hand and shot a look at him.

"How long was I unconscious, you sick bastard?"

"Only about an hour, I'd say." He pulled the chain lightly and Dante could hear something being pulled, as if on a pulley used in a slaughter house. "You see Dante, while you were out, I devised a new form of punishment for you since you passed out so quickly last time. I'm going to attack you emotionally, rather than physically." He pulled the chain harder, and Dante could hear his heart shatter into a million irreversible pieces.

With her hands tied up over her head, Marissa was pulled into the room on a pulley. Her hair draped her naked body, and she had bruises and small burns covering her once perfect legs, and small cuts from where a knife had been slid across her ribs were laid out evenly on her. Her head was down, and when lifted her eyes to see Dante lying on the table, tears began to flow from her eyes. "Dante…" was all she could bring herself to whisper.

Dante's eyes began to water when he yelled as loud as he could. "Marissa. Don't worry, I'll get us out of this somehow. I'm not sure how yet, but don't worry my love. I won't let this sick fuck hurt you anymore!" Marissa lowered her head again, as if she had run out of strength.

Feeling left out for a bit, Michael walked over to Marissa. "Perhaps I should explain my new form of punishment for you Dante." He ran his fingers across her right cheek, and went down slowly until his hand was in the middle of her chest. "Now, every time you scream I'm going to touch and defile this beautiful body of hers in some way." His hand left her body, and went to his mask as he slightly pulled up at the bottom of his mask to reveal the lower half of his face and then ran his tongue slowly up Marissa's neck. "That was for earlier. And now like this, I won't have to wait for you to wake up to begin our games again." Dante had never struggled more to break something than he was right now, using every ounce of strength he could muster to break his restraints. He was moving so quickly and forcefully he could feel the metal digging into his wrists and ankles, leaving marks and potentially breaking the skin if this kept up. Yet, Dante cared not of his physical body at this moment, and focused every ounce of his soul in trying to get off this table and slaughter Michael.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING TOUCH HER, YOU BASTARD! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" Dante yelled as his fingers scraped the table. His vision was going blurry with rage, and he could feel blood accumulating under his restraints.

Michael's gaze shifted back to Dante. "Now that's the fire I like to see, Dante!" He left Marissa, and grabbed his pliers while half sprinting back over to Dante. "Now keep that angry face, and steel yourself as I take more from you!"

He gripped the pliers onto Dante's right thumbnail and forcefully pulled it out in one go. Dante gritted his teeth to keep from screaming, because he knew the repercussions, but kept his hateful eyes staring directly into the black abyss of Michael's eyes behind his mask. "MORE DANTE… GIVE ME MORE…" Michael said in a distorted voice that sounded beastly, and quickly went through each of Dante's remaining fingers, jerking the nails out and laying them next to Dante's head. Dante laid his head back, and heard some of his teeth cracking from the magnitude at which he was gritting them. However, at the last finger, his right pinky, Michael pulled one side of it at a time to slowly jerk it out of Dante. When he finally removed it, Dante could not hold back a blood curdling howl. His body went into spasms again as he yelled, and he could see and hear Marissa whimpering on the other side of the room. Michael held Dante's final nail in his hand as he carried it over to where Marissa stood. Dante followed Michael with his gaze the entire way, and never stopped screaming once.

"YOU FUCKING MONSTER! I'LL KILL YOU, I'LL KILL YOU, I'LL KILL YOUUUUUU!"

When Michael made it to Marissa, he gripped her jaw and lifted her head up. He brought his hand up to her face. "I want you to eat this fingernail. If you don't, I'm going to cut off all of Dante's fingers."

"MARISSA! DON'T DO IT! DON'T PLAY THIS BASTARD'S GAMES!"

Marissa looked at Dante with a heartbroken expression and smiled. "But I have to. If it means protecting you, I'll do anything, _il mio amore_." The pieces of Dante's shattered heart melted at that, further destroying him internally.

"Oh, how cute." Said Michael sheepishly. In a swift motion he shoved two of his fingers into Marissa's mouth, leaving Dante's fingernail in her mouth, and then forced her to chew and swallow it. Marissa's face turned a light shade of green, and she looked as if she was going to throw her guts up, but much to Dante's surprise she managed to keep it down.

"I told you… anything for you, Dante…" Marissa lowered her head. Dante began to sob, and let his head fall completely to the side. His will gone, like his fingernails.

However, sorrow turned to rage as he saw Michael creep behind Marissa and slide his bloody hands up her body. His hands stopped as they got to her breasts, and he squeezed them hardly, with the obvious intention of hurting her. She whined a bit, trying to act strong, but her embarrassment and fear had gotten the best of her. She did not want Dante to see her like this, with another man touching her against her will. She knew the effect it would have on his mental stability. And to make matters worse, Michael wiped a sharpened fingernail across the side of her neck, and began to lick the small stream of blood that flowed, and started to suck on her neck where the cut was. Dante lay on the table, a quiet rage taken over him at watching the scene.

"Dante… please don't look…" Marissa whimpered.

Dante's eyes had gone white with rage, his mind was lost within emotion. Michael looked up at him in a smug fashion, and then walked over to him and placed his fingers on Dante's temple. "That's a nice face you have there Dante. Think about what you just watched for the rest of the night, and hold it in." He bent down to Dante's ear and whispered something before walking back toward Marissa and pushing her out of the room. Dante would hold onto those words every second of that night.

 _"Let it plague your dreams."_

Dante did not recall falling asleep that night, but he was awoken from his dreamless slumber by the clang of metal on metal. He opened his eyes quickly, and was not surprised to see Michael with his blood stained apron and gloves already on. "Good afternoon, my good friend." He almost sounded giddy to see Dante's battered and bloody body restrained to his table. "I missed hearing your screams last night. It made me feel rather lonely." Michael said as he walked by his cart and grabbed a pair of medium sized hedge clippers. "We're going to have some fun today, Dante." He slowly approached Dante, like an animal creeping up on its prey. "I'm going to cut into you with these, and then I'm going to pour this into your wounds." He whispered sinisterly as he pulled out a bottle of some liquid. "This is rubbing alcohol, and I'm quite sure you know the effects of this on cuts. However, this is going to be going into wounds that are a bit deeper than a tiny cut."

Dante felt a bit of fear rise into his chest, but he was actually more concerned by the fact that Marissa was not here with him. Not that he wanted her to have to see this, but he was terrified by the thought of her being subjected to torture like she was the other night without him being around. "Where is Marissa?" he wanted to ask, but his question was cut short by the sharp incision of the clippers tearing apart his skin. Dante screamed in pain, but Michael did not stop to allow Dante to adjust to the pain. Michael laughed maniacally as he constantly moved the clippers around to different places of Dante's exposed chest, arms, and inner calves. He could feel blood running down all of his body, even up to his neck restraint. With little to no time to catch his breath, Dante felt the painful sting of the rubbing alcohol being drenched onto him from the bottle he pulled out.

However, Michael did leave one area of Dante's body clear of alcohol. His left side had a rather deep cut that was located near the top of his rib cage. "I've been thinking about this since the day I saw you Dante. I've wanted so badly to taste the sweet nectar that runs through these veins of yours." Michael took off one of his gloves and ran two of his fingers through some blood flowing down Dante's side. He then lifted his blood soaked fingers into his mouth. Michael began to yell towards the ceiling as he leaned backwards. "DELICIOUS! BETTER THAN I HAD EVER IMAGINED! I MUST HAVE MORE DANTE!" Michael shoved two of his fingers deeper into Dante's side wound. Dante could feel his fingers sliding across the outside of his ribcage, twisting around in an attempt to pool in as much blood on them as possible. Dante screamed as Michael wiggles his fingers in him. Michael slid his fingers slowly out of Dante's wound, and then ran his tongue up his fingers. "The tang of your blood contrasts so perfectly with your little lady friend." Dante's eyes shot to him in an instant. "I could not have chosen a more perfect pair of entrees."

"We aren't just tools for your amusement, you sadistic bastard." Dante was having trouble breathing as he spoke, the loss of blood getting to him. "Marissa and I are human beings, and we have a right to live just as you do…" Dante said weakly.

Michael sighed and tossed the rest of the rubbing alcohol in his bottle into Dante's side wound. Dante winced with pain, but was able to tolerate a single wound much better than he could his twenty other wounds at the same time. "You see, Dante that is where you are wrong. I know you believe that you play the role of a noble knight, trying to protect that which you hold dear. But you could not be more wrong here. You, and all your little human friends, family, and even strangers alike, are all nothing more than my food source. You are the prey, and I am the predator. Only the strong have the right to survive in this world" Michael slapped Dante with an astounding force that knocked one of Dante's teeth out. Dante could taste blood, and heard the cling of metal on the table. When Dante looked back over, he saw Michael bent over his right hand with the clippers over his ring finger.

"You know, I made a reference to this yesterday, but obviously Marissa had more resolve than I initially imagined. But now… my curiosity and temptation have been peaked Dante." He began to slowly pull the clippers together. Dante felt the increased pressure being placed behind his second knuckle, and eventually the breaking of his skin. Dante screamed for what felt like the millionth time and he heard the bone in his finger breaking, and giving way to the force behind the clippers. Michael picked up his freshly severed finger and dangled it directly over Dante's face. "And now with this, I will forever have a piece of you with me Dante."

Dante watched in awe as Michael lifted his finger over his head, and put it into his mouth. Michael chewed his finger exactly thirty seven times, Dante counted, and never broke their gaze of each other. Michael's gaze spoke of humor and contempt, while Dante's gaze emanated rage and despair.

"I enjoyed today Dante. I'll be back once you've passed out from blood loss to patch you up so you won't die completely." He turned and began to walk away, but stopped for a moment to say one word before leaving. "Yet."

" _Give it back, you bastard…_ " Dante's voice came out weakly, and almost ghastly. His trauma cracking the mental walls he had set up at conception. His will to live flowing out of him like the "sweet nectar" Michael called his blood. " _Give it back, give it back, give it back… come back here, you son of a bitch… Bastard… Bring it back… Bring her back…_ " were the words Dante repeated until he embraced the chilling warmth of unconsciousness.

When Dante came to, he had no idea at how much time could have possibly passed, but when he glanced at the nearest wall to distract himself he saw a mirror that let him see his body for the first time in what felt like years. He had developed large dark circles beneath his eyes, and his shirt had been completely stripped, but his body was covered with medical bandaging. "At least that sadist can keep his word…" He muttered. He also noticed that his neck restraint had been removed for some reason, and lifted his head to look down at his right hand. He began to sob as he saw the space in his hand where his ring finger had been. The scene of Michael eating it came back into his mind.

Just as he replayed the scene in his mind, Michael walked into the room. Michael glanced at him behind his mask, but continued to pace around the room in an anxious manner.

"Dante, I'm going to be completely honest with you here. No one besides you has survived for this long, so I really want to make these future sessions special for us." He clapped his gloved hands together. "You know what, I just thought of a solution. I'm going to play with you all day, but I'm not going to wear my mask. How does that sound to you Dante?"

Dante stared at him with the eyes of a corpse, the color long faded from them. He could not even muster the things he wanted to say.

"I'll take that as a yes then, you party pooper." Michael said sarcastically as he removed his mask, finally showing his face.

Dante's eyes went wide in shock, and he could feel himself beginning to hyperventilate. The face he saw was familiar, but was that of a stranger. Someone he had never known, but someone he had met. And once Michael opened the dark pits of black and scarlet that he called his eyes, Dante instantly recognized him.

Michael has always been the man who had bumped into Marissa and him those days ago.

"You look like you have something you wish to ask." He said sheepishly.

Dante let his nerves calm before he spoke, as he was hyperventilating and experiencing shock. After five minutes of silence, Dante finally spoke the first word he had said to Michael that wasn't a threat. "Why us?"

Michael cocked his head slightly to the right. "Why you ask?" He laughed his maniacal laugh. "You should know that we ghouls feed off you humans Dante."

"No… I meant why us? Why Marissa and I? What did we do to deserve this…?" Dante whispered as he lowered his head.

"Dante, there was no reason. You both just happened to be the only people I found that day. I could have found anyone. You and she aren't special to me. All you humans are equal in my eyes." He smiled the sinister smile Dante knew he was hiding the entire time. "You're all just walking forms of pleasure and enjoyment to me. You, Marissa, your friends, your family, and all the people of Verona you have yet to meet, are all mine to have and do with what I desire. _YOU ARE ALL MINE AND ONLY MINE…"_ Michael grabbed hammer he had been keeping on the cart. " _AND NOW I SHALL TAKE WHAT IS MINE FROM YOU._ "

Dante's face twisted with anger, and his strength had come back to him for a moment. "You self-righteous son of a bitch. You really think you're so far above all us humans?" He chuckled. "Without us, you would starve. Without us, you would shrivel up and die." Now Dante was screaming. " _WITHOUT US, YOU WOULD BE NOTHING, YOU EGOTISTICAL BASTARD!"_

Dante was quieted by the swift motion of the hammer in Michael's hand striking him across the jaw. He heard the cracking of his fractured jaw, and most likely cracked and now missing teeth. His head then began to hang down, his mouth unable to close at the moment.

"With such a strong tongue as that, it's no wonder you've become a successful musician." Michael sat the hammer back down onto the cart. He turned his head to the side to look at Dante while keeping his body facing the cart. "You know, I think I need to re-evaluate my position at the top with you. And I believe I know the first step to knock you down." He grabbed his blowtorch, and began to heat up a thick knife to the point of it glowing red with heat. He then pulled Dante's head straight upright, his jaw still dangling and half unconscious. Michael then wrapped a leather strap across Dante's forehead to keep his head in place so it would not fall, and then pulled Dante's tongue out, gripping tightly with his index finger, middle finger, and thumb. Michael then picked up the superheated knife and raised it to Dante's exposed and vulnerable tongue.

" _I JUST HAVE TO REMOVE THE SOURCE OF REBELLION…!"_

Dante had never experienced the pain he had felt just then, the immense heat emanating from the knife that cauterized his severed tongue as it sliced it off. Dante's screams filled the room, as slurred as they were, resembled that of a banshee. His voice was gurgled and distorted because of the blood that had flowed down his throat before the wound was cauterized. His entire body began to spasm out of control, and his prior wounds began to open up and bleed again. Michael got into Dante's face after throwing his severed tongue into the floor. "Do you still feel like fighting back against me, you peasant? I am a God to you. You are nothing without me. That is where you were wrong before." Michael placed the knife down and pulled the strap down over Dante's eyes, blinding him and making him oblivious to everything that was about to happen.

Suddenly, an immense wave of pain rushed through Dante's left arm as he heard the crunching of bones in his hand. More specifically, the fingers on his left hand. Michael's voice filled Dante's ears like the Devil himself was whispering into his ears.

"Dante, you've really upset me today. I wanted you to be special. I wanted you to be different. But you turned out to be just like the rest. And now I'm going to take half of you away. Now, I would much rather take all of you and be done with you, but I want you to suffer beyond words. However, I doubt you'll be forming any words, or singing any melodies, again anytime soon." Dante could feel tears sliding down his face as Michael shoved a gag into his mouth to keep him from screaming further.

"I've grown bored of hearing your screams. All I want now is to break you. Or rather, half break you." There was a rush of wind, from what Dante assumed was the hammer that rushed into Dante's ear as the same rush of familiar pain and breaking of bones, this time in his hand. Dante wailed a mess of muffled whimpers.

"You brought this on yourself. I'm going to go to break every bone in your left arm, and then your left leg. Don't you dare pass out on me Dante."

Dante's muffled screams filled every hall of the abandoned hospital they were in, and they stretched so far that they reached even Marissa, who was on the opposite side of the hospital. She began to sob, both from the pain and the fear of the thought of Dante dying. She wanted nothing more than to hold him and run her fingers through his hair once again. To feel the smooth sensation of his pale skin against hers, and to hear his breathing in rhythm with hers. She longed for him. She longed for the past. She longed to escape this hell, and enjoy the life she and he should be sharing right now. She continued to cry, with the thought of Dante of suffering in whatever sick and twisted form of torture he was going through. She slipped into unconsciousness praying for God to save her and Dante, hoping to wake up somewhere, anywhere but here.

The light of the following morning struck Marissa in a glorious manner, stealing her from her peaceful slumber. Her eyes twitched as they adjusted to the light, all too slowly. Her hopes of waking up from a hellish nightmare crushed when she realized she was still dangling from the ceiling of the hospital. She could feel her strength fading from dehydration and starvation, and she could feel blisters forming on her wrists from the tightness of the chains. She glanced down at all the injuries and small burns that were spread across her body as if she was now an abstract painting. There was nothing beautiful about her once acceptable body. She felt ugly, and not worthy to be looked upon by anyone, especially Dante.

"Good morning, pretty lady." Michael said sarcastically as he entered her room. Marissa said nothing, in an effort to not give him the satisfaction of her acknowledgment, and sank her head. "You know, you and Dante are truly the opposites of each other. I suppose it's no wonder you two are so attracted to each other." He walked up to her and grabbed her chin tightly. "Two corner pieces that somehow found a way to fit into each other. So sweet it makes me sick." Marissa noticed that Michael had not worn his mask today and could faintly recall an image of him she could not recall. It was like she had seen him somewhere before, like she was having a sick, twisted form of déjà vu.

"A brilliant idea struck me yesterday, as I was breaking half of your lover's bones." Michael said with a chuckle, walking behind her. Marissa's eyes went wider than she could have ever imagined possible as she inhaled sharply. "I thought, why don't I try something new? Something that isn't physical torture. Something that goes deeper than the skin, and scars in the mind and soul." He ran his fingers slowly up her exposed back, and sent chills up her spine. "If I can break Dante's bones and his soul, then I will have evolved and surpassed the man I idolize. I will finally become the monster I dream of, and that you fear." When Marissa attempted to turn her head to face him, her vision became nothing but darkness as Michael had now blindfolded her. He began to push against her back, sliding her through the halls of the hospital to a destination she knew not.

Dante awoke to darkness, or rather a light shade of brown that had light blaring through it. He was blindfolded and gagged, but he was not bolted to the table anymore. He could feel his arms and legs tied to a wooden chair by a rope that was tightly, but unprofessionally tied. He could hear footsteps echoing through the halls, so Dante assumed he was in a new room. God only knew what kind of torture he was to be put through today. He had already lost the things that brought him the little success he had earned, his arms and tongue. He could never sing or play any sort of instrument ever again. Fifteen years of dedication went down the drain. However, none of that felt as significant to Dante as much as Marissa's safety meant to him. Even if he could not talk, or hold her hand, or walk with her the same way, as long as she was safe then Dante knew he had a reason to survive.

The sudden banging of doors being kicked open made Dante jerk his head in the general direction, and suddenly the room was filled with Michael's demonic banter. "Good afternoon Dante, my old friend! Boy do I have a treat for you today!" Dante could hear his footsteps growing louder as Michael approached him, and when his blindfold was removed he felt a small bit of relief and anxiety.

Marissa was hanging in front of him, burned and bruised and cut, but she was alive and looking into his eyes with concern that ran deeper than the ocean. The connection in their eyes spoke more than words could ever hope to convey, and both of their eyes began to fill with tears. Both from grief of seeing the other in such a battered state, but also from relief at seeing each other alive in one piece, more or less.

However, their moment of connection was interrupted as Michael stepped in front of Dante and leaned down to get to his eye level. "Today, I'm going to break you apart on the inside Dante. I'm going to hit you in a place that even bluntest of hammers, or the sharpest of blades, or hottest of flames could reach. I want to run a scar so deeply in you that it will break the fabric of who you are. I want to make you suffer far beyond any physical pain. I want to pass the physical boundary, and attack your soul." Michael smirked evilly and pointed behind him at Marissa.

"I'm going to make you watch me torture the one person you care about more than yourself. I will break your soul by desecrating the one thing you have left to hold on to. I'm going to defile the woman you love, and make you watch helplessly as I have my way with her." Michael got up and walked away to stand behind Marissa and stared Dante coldly in the eyes while running one hand down her stomach, and the other up to her chest.

"With this… I will truly break you, Dante."

Dante began to shake violently in his chair, occasionally making it leave the ground. He made a variety of muffled noises, partly because of the gag and also from his lack of a tongue. The sight of Michael's hands sliding up and down Marissa's skin infuriated him to no end, and lit a fire in him he thought had died. His instincts were taking over, and he could feel his mind leaving him in place of his rage. What made matters worse was that Michael's eyes never left Dante's. He looked into his eyes with the deepest contempt and enjoyment at seeing him in pain. Michael cared not what he was doing to Marissa, he only wanted to get a reaction out of Dante. Dante could hear the wooden chair he was roped to beginning to crack from his force, but it did not shatter.

"What should I do first to her, Dante? Perhaps I should cut her open, and eat her right in front of you? Or perhaps leave more burns across her body, make her into a walking piece of coal?" Michael slid his tongue up Marissa's neck, to her ear, and nibbled at it. "Or maybe I should just have my way with her while you're powerless to stop me. I like the sound of all these options, really." His gaze went into Dante's. "Perhaps I should kill her first, and then torture you with this." He swiped her cheek with a sharpened fingernail, opening a small trail of blood that ran down her cheek.

"Oh how sweet her despair smells." Michael licked the blood off her. "Don't you worry, I'm going to be good to you." He lifted Marissa's legs up, despite her resistance, and wrapped them around his waist. "Are you watching Dante? I would hate for you to miss a second of this."

Dante could hear the sound of a zipper being undone and began to shake in his chair again. "You motherfucker… If you do that, I'm going to fucking end you." He wanted to say, but he could not get the words to escape his gagged mouth.

Michael looked back contemptuously, but kept his body facing Marissa. "At least let me finish first. I've been holding this in for days now, dammit." After a smooth movement of Michael's body, Marissa gritted her teeth to keep from making a noise, but a small moan that came with tears began to come from her. Michael turned his face back to her. "Crying already? I must be a little bigger than you're used to, eh Marissa?" He laughed and ran his tongue across her cheek as they moved against each other.

Dante felt his right eye begin to twitch as he watched them, his powerlessness truly sinking into him. " _I can't just sit here and watch this… I have to fucking do something. I'll fucking kill this bastard. I'll fucking eat him…"_ He thought as he began to try and break his chair again. He could hear creaking and the small snapping of wood, and the sound of Marissa's moans urging him to press on. His left arm ached because of his broken bones, but the pain also urged him on. He had every intention of breaking free of his restraint and destroying Michael.

Marissa turned her head to Dante and gave him an expression that told Dante what she was thinking. _I'm sorry, please don't watch this. I don't want you to see me like this._ She knew from the way that Dante steadied himself that he could read her expression. Even in this deepest pit of Hell, Marissa held her faith that Dante would get them out of this somehow. However, she hated that she was the one thing that was causing Dante the most pain. It was because of her that Dante was losing his sanity and will to be survive.

"And with this, I'm almost at my limit, Marissa. Sadly, this beautiful moment we're sharing is going to end." He bent forward and bit her lip until it began to bleed. "I hope you'll remember this as I will. Making love will never be the same as we're making it." He ran his hand up her chest and up to her neck, and began to choke her as he began to move his hips more violently and uncontrolled. "Maybe I should let you have my child, and then kill you. Or maybe just keep you around to use as form of release?" He got into her face and stared deeply into her eyes, the black and crimson of his reflecting off the white in hers. "What do you think about that, my dear?"

To Dante and Michael's surprise, Marissa had no comeback to that, but simply spit in Michael's face. Her saliva got in his eye, forcing him to stumble back, backing away from Marissa and becoming free of her legs. After he wiped his eyes clean, he walked up to her with his head down. The room was filled with a very loud smacking sound as Dante saw Michael make a swift movement with his arm. Michael slapped Marissa with a force that sent her head flying in the opposite direction. "You stupid wench. I give you the pleasure of intimacy with me, and you spit in my eye? I ought to end your fucking existence here and now, and be done with you." He grabbed her cheeks and squeezed them together. "But I still have a purpose for you." He went behind her, and started to push her closer to Dante, who watched in horror and anguish. "Maybe you'd prefer the touch of hot silver to your skin over my own." He pulled out a small kitchen knife and began to heat it up with the blowtorch he had used on Dante. He ran the red hot blade across Marissa's tender skin, and left a gaping line down the middle of her chest that began to ooze with blood. She screamed in agony, and Dante began to spasm in his chair.

 _BASTARD, BASTARD, BASTARD, BASTARD, BASTARD, BASTARD, BASTARD, BASTARD!_ He thought as he could feel the chair further weakening from his force. Just a little more, and he would be free.

Michael let out a sinister howl as he ran his fingers into Marissa's chest wound. "I suppose you truly are beautiful on the inside. How surprising." He pulled out his fingers and put them to his mouth. "Mmm…and how sweet you taste, my sweet." He slid his hand up her leg, and ran the blade across her forehead, letting blood spill down into her face. "With such a mixture of pain and pleasure, I'm surprised you haven't gotten addicted to my love yet, Marissa darling." He lifted his head and ran his tongue across the wound, digging his tongue into the cut forcing Marissa to yelp in pain.

Her pain however, was nothing compared to that of Dante's psychological scarring. Michael wanted to break Dante down to the soul, and now he had succeeded. The once compassionate Dante had lost himself in the sea of hatred that now flooded his mind. He wanted nothing in the world but to destroy Michael, and take from him as he had taken from him. "Dante, pick up your head and look at me." Michael beckoned him, and Dante's eyes followed. What Dante saw would lead him down a path of no return. Michael was behind Marissa again, with his finger at her throat. He carefully slid his finger across her throat, another trail of blood following his finger. He then placed his entire hand across her throat, and squeezed more blood to flow freely outward. Dante began to cry and scream incomprehensible noises that even he could not understand, pleading Michael to stop. He could see the life being squeezed out of Marissa, yet Michael continued to add pressure and release blood. Michael looked at him with those same deep, dark, contemptuous eyes, and squeezed further, and further, and further, and further, and tighter, and tighter, and tighter.

And in the blink of an eye, the breaking of Marissa's neck filled Dante's ears, and the sight of her eyes rolling back into her head that freely dangled now on her body would be an image he could never erase from his nightmares.

Michael laughed. A somehow more maniacal and evil laugh even the Devil himself would have shivered at. "SHES DEAD! SHES FUCKING DEAD DANTE! DID YOU SEE THAT?!" He walked over to Dante, who now had his head bowed, and looked down at him like a human would an ant. "I KILLED HER RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU, AND YOU DID NOTHING! SHES DEAD, AND I KILLED HER! I'VE TAKEN THE ONE THING YOU NEEDED TO ENDURE MY GAMES!" He removed the gag on Dante's mouth, hoping to hear him sob or scream. "NOW I CAN PLAY WITH YOU UNTIL YOU BREAK AGAIN! YOU WILL BE TOYED WITH UNTIL YOU DIE, AND THEN I'LL EAT YOU, YOU PATHE-!"

Michael's speech was cut short by the sudden snapping of Dante's chair, and Dante suddenly sinking his teeth into Michael's throat. The wood from Dante's chair clattered to the ground as Dante placed his right hand over Michael's face, and put his leg behind Michael's, making Michael lose his balance and send them both crashing to the floor. Michael screamed as they made impact, and Dante took the opportunity to sink his teeth further and then pulled his head back, ripping a large chunk of Michael's neck out. Michael's blood began to cover the floor as it flowed from his large open wound.

"You son of a bitch…" He yelled as he attempted to cover the wound and kicked Dante off of him, sending him flying backward to the wall. Dante landed next to Michael's cart of tools. Michael began to crawl away, wondering if this would truly be the end of him. " _What am I going to do now? I can't possibly close a wound this large on my own… I need to…_ " His eyes traveled to Marissa's corpse. " _I need to eat._ " He immediately changed directions, and began to crawl towards Marissa. He could feel saliva forming in his mouth as he hungered for the taste of her flesh. However, a sudden rush of pain went through him as his progress was stopped. He turned his head back to see Dante holding one of the metal rods from his cart, the rod was protruding out of the back of his leg. Dante held three more in his hands.

"HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE THE ONE PINNED DOWN?" Dante muttered in an almost unrecognizable voice. His voice was low, and a bit slurred from his severed tongue, but he had somehow gotten the words out. When Michael looked at Dante's face, he thought he was staring at a demon. His face was covered by shadows, and his eyes had gone white from his anger. In the blink of an eye, Dante brought another rod and dug it through Michael's left calf. Michael screamed as Dante twisted it to go deeper in. "DOES IT HURT? THIS IS NOTHING COMPARED TO WHAT YOU PUT MARISSA AND I THROUGH." Dante limped forward a bit, and then penetrated Michael's forearm with another rod. The sudden realization of dying finally hit Michael at full force here. He was practically completely pinned down to the floor of the hospital by one of the victims he chose to torture.

"Karma really is a bitch…" He said as Dante brought down the last rod through his other arm. He yelped, feeling blood flow from his neck and appendages onto the floor. "If only I would have eaten that girl sooner, I could have used my kagune to kill you here and now Dante."

Dante smirked and looked down on Michael with the same contemptuous looks he had given him earlier. "Well, whose fault is that?" Dante stood up slowly, and stumbled back over to Michael's cart. He grabbed a knife, and then slowly made his way back to Michael and sat on his back. He jammed the knife into Michael's coat, and began to cut it off Michael.

"What do you think you're doing, Dante?" Michael said skeptically.

Dante ripped off the ripped jacket from Michael's back. "I'm giving you a taste of your own medicine." He stabbed the knife into Michael's back and carved it around, forming a shape, and then pulled a large chunk of meat out of Michael. "Have you ever consumed a ghoul, Michael?"

Michael could feel tears forming in his eyes from the pain. "No, only humans. I-I-I've heard they taste terrible. I only subject myself to the most pleasuring of tastes…"

Dante shoved the flesh into his mouth and began to chew. The tender meat had the taste of rotten fish, or a steak that had been sitting out in the open for at least a month. Dante felt himself gag from the taste, and the thought of consuming a Ghoul, but he pushed himself on to finish it. His breathing became heavy after he swallowed, and he felt tears well up in his eyes. He stabbed the knife back down and continued to carve out chunks of flesh as Michael screamed hysterically.

"YOU WERE RIGHT. YOU ARE DISGUSTING. BUT YOU SAID YOU WERE GOING TO EAT ME, SO YOU HAVE NO ROOM TO COMPLAIN IF I EAT YOU. RIGHT?"

For the next thirty minutes, Dante continued to stab Michael's knife into his flesh and rip pieces of him out and consume them right in front of him. Maniacal screaming filled the hospital, though Dante knew that no one could hear them, as no one had heard his own. Now, the tables had turned, and the prey had become predator. Dante had never felt more empowered as he consumed the skin and muscle of Michael's body. He could feel his teeth slowly growing back, and his bones becoming stronger and reforming in his body. He could not explain it, but he somehow felt stronger. He threw the knife to the side of the room, and began to rip apart Michael's skin with his bare hands and shove it into his mouth. Nearly his entire body was covered in Michael's blood now, and there were loose chunks of flesh spread across the floor, soaking up blood. Dante's vision had also gone from being quite blurry from trauma to being a slightly red tint, as if he was looking through red glasses. He knew that by now Michael was dead, but his hunger made him continue to consume his dead body. Eventually, the only thing that remained of Michael's corpse was his head and his skeleton, though Dante had snapped some of the bones to consume the marrow in them.

Dante stood up from his first meal in ages, and glared down at Michael's head. His mouth was gaping open, and it almost seemed as if he was trying to scream or say something. As Dante walked away, he stomped Michael's head, crushing the skull and sending the remaining chunks of brain matter scattering across the floor and soaking his foot with blood. He stopped when he got to Marissa's corpse and knelt down beside her. He picked up her head and held her in his arms, thinking back to all the times they had together. He ran the fingers on his right hand through her hair, to get it out of her face, and took note that his ring finger had grown back along with his fingernails and toenails.

"Marissa…" He muttered as he stared at her pale face. "Even in death, you're still the most elegant and beautiful girl I have ever laid my eyes on." He pulled her closer to him, and buried her face into his chest as he sobbed for her. "I…I just wish I could have kept my promise to you… I should've done more to protect you… This is my fault. This is all my fault. I'm so sorry, _il mio amore_ …" He could feel his tears running down his face, and though he had regained clear speech, likely from his tongue growing back like everything else he had lost, he still felt as though the most important part of him was taken away, and would never grow back.

His heart.

His body carried on, but his heart and soul were taken from him.

Dante really was not sure if enduring all the torture was worth it now. Sure, he was alive, but he wasn't taking it all so he could survive. He just didn't want Marissa to have to live without him. Now, Dante would be forced to live without her.

Dante laid Marissa's body down gently on the floor, and searched the room for something he could wrap Marissa in. Thankfully, he found a large white sheet of fabric, presumably for wiping away blood, and went back to Marissa and covered her body in it, leaving her face exposed. He picked her up, and began to carry her bridal style through the hospital until they found an exit. Or rather, until he found an exit.

Dante's eyes never left Marissa's expressionless face.

While walking through the halls, Dante happened to glance at a nearly completely shattered window, and saw his reflection. He looked like a walking skeleton, the lean muscle that covered his body gone, and his hair had grown considerably in the past days. He had lost track of time after the second day. But there was one thing he noticed more than anything else.

His eyes had become black like an abyss with the irises shining a bright scarlet, and he had small lines that looked like cracks running from his new eyes across his face.

Dante was now one of the monsters that had killed Marissa.

However, the shock of becoming a Ghoul did not affect Dante nearly as much as it normally would have. He felt the same as he did before, but somehow different. He felt stronger. He was like a walking corpse with iron skin. On the inside he was dead, but on the surface he was stronger than ever.

Eventually, Dante found an exit to the hospital and began wandering around the dark and empty streets of Verona, hidden in the shadows. He knew not where he could go now, certainly not back to his apartment. For the owner would not let him through seeing him with the eyes of a Ghoul and the body of his lover in his arms. He also couldn't go to Marissa's family, as they would assume somehow that Dante would be responsible for her death. Which Dante did blame himself for, but he doubted he would even be able to really look Marissa's family in the eyes again. If they didn't like him before, now they would surely despise his existence. Dante was truly lost. Not only that though, he was lost and alone now.

After walking for what felt like hours, Dante stumbled upon an empty park. He saw many beautiful and intricate hedge works that ran into each other making shapes that resembled something like crop circles or a maze. He knew instantly where he was. He was in the _Garden Giusti,_ the place where Dante had taken Marissa on their first date. The day when Dante realized he wanted to marry her, and stay by her side. And now she was gone. Because of him.

He carried her to the fountain that stood in the middle of the garden, and sat on the ledge on one its ledges, and placed her head on his lap and stroked her bloody hair.

"I miss you so much, Marissa…" he said weakly as he stared longingly at her. He could feel rain beginning to fall, as it soaked his hair slightly. He held his head over Marissa's in hope that she would not get wet, but he saw small, slightly red, droplets falling on her face. He wiped one off and licked it, thinking it to be blood, but to his surprise, it was a tear. His tears had become red. He had not realized he was still crying, but chances are that he never really stopped.

"I doubt I'll ever stop blaming myself for your death, Marissa… If only I had been stronger, I…" He felt his body clinch as he tried to get the words out. His bloody tears began to flow more freely. "I could have saved you, but I'm pathetic, just as Michael said…" He cupped his hand on her cheek, and covered a majority of her face with the now wet fabric. "I could not save you in life" He bent his head down and kissed her forehead. "But I will avenge you in death, _il mio amore_ " He pulled the rest of the fabric up to where it would cover her face completely, and got up to walk away. While walking away, he noticed one of her hands dangling free from the fabric. He turned around and went to place it safely inside, and when he got there he saw that she was still wearing the ring he had bought her. His heart ached as he did so, but he retrieved the ring from her finger and placed on his newly grown ring finger, to keep as a reminder of her. He wrapped her arm inside the fabric, and whilst clutching her anchor necklace around his neck, walked away from her for the last time.

Dante walked for about thirty minutes until he found a payphone, and dialed the number for the Verona CCG. The phone rang about three times, but was then answered by what sounded like a middle aged woman who was ready to be off work and drink with her friends. "Verona CCG Head Office, what is your emergency?"

"There's a dead body in the _Garden Giusti_ , it's a Ghoul victim. Hurry here." Was all he said, or all he could bring himself to say, and he left the phone dangling as he walked through the dark and lifeless city.

While walking through the city, on his way back to his apartment, Dante passed by a shop window and looked at himself in the reflection again. He somehow appeared the same as he was before the torture. However, his skin had grown pale, and he now had bags under his eyes. He also had large scars covering his body where the flesh he had lost had grown back spontaneously. He looked down at his chest, and touched the scar across his chest softly. When he looked back up at himself, he saw his red tears flowing down his face like blood, as it mixed with the rain that now came down quite strongly, plastering his black hair to his now pale skin.

"I truly am a monster now, aren't I…?"

He covered his face with his hand as he continued his trek to his apartment, and noted that he could hear sirens wailing in the background.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"Mr. Anderson, if you would be so kind as to rejoin our discussion." Came a soothingly calm yet also demanding voice that filled the classroom.

James lifted his head and rubbed his eyes, looking lazily at his professor. "Yes sir, Doctor Anderson, my apologies." He ran his hand through his short, well-kept together red hair. He apparently had inherited the "Ginger Gene" from his mother, but he rather enjoyed it, because it reminded him of her.

"Please do your best not to fall asleep anymore, son." Doctor Anderson said as he rubbed his dark beard. "Everyone else in this class worked hard to get into this class, just as you had. So I think you owe us all the respect of paying attention." He looked around the class to approving smiles, and nodded his head acknowledging the rest of the class.

James leaned his head down, ashamed. "Yes sir, it won't happen again. I promise." He hated being called out by his father, especially when it was actually his own fault. James was pursuing his dream of being a doctor who helped Ghoul victims because he wanted to simply help people, but also because he wanted to spend time with his father. His father was someone James considered his personal hero and role model. He had never met someone as compassionate about their work, or as hard working as his father. Even with the death of James' mother, his father stayed strong for the both of them.

"Now, can someone tell me the special organ that Ghouls have that sets them apart from us human beings?" Doctor Anderson inquired aloud. Almost instantaneously a hand shot up, and not to James' surprise, it was the girl who he has had a crush on since elementary school. Sarah Adams.

"Ghouls have a special organ in their bodies called a _kagune_ that acts as an extension of themselves, and comes out of their bodies in the form of liquid muscles that can stretch and move at the will of their minds." Sarah said in a concise and confident voice.

Doctor Anderson clapped his hands and nodded. "Excellent Sarah. On top of your game as usual." He looked directly at James. "Now, James, can you tell me what the four types of _kagune_ are?"

James felt everyone in the class' eyes on him, but he knew this answer like the back of his hand. "There are four types of _kagune_ a Ghoul can have. The first is the _Ukaku_ which act sort of like wings, and protrude from the Ghoul's shoulder area. They specialize in high speed projectile attacks. Then, the _Koukaku_ acts as either a shield or a weapon, depending on the user's preference. They are the heaviest, but also the most sturdy of all _kagune_. Next, is the _Rinkaku_ which have the appearance of a tentacle that comes from their back, around the waist. The _Rinkaku_ users specialize in brute force attacks, but also are known for their high speed regeneration abilities." James took a deep breath, not used to giving this long of an explanation. "And finally, we have the _Bikaku_ whose _kagune_ come out of their tail-bone area, and are really the most balanced of the types. They have no notable strengths or weaknesses, and can hold their own against all the other types evenly." All the time spent with his father doing research had obviously paid off. His father looked at him and smiled approvingly.

Doctor Anderson walked back up to the board and began to write something. When he stepped out of the way, "Are Ghouls Generally Impenetrable Creatures?" was written in a very bright shade of red that stood out on the white board. "Can someone answer this question for me?" He looked around the class eagerly, waiting on a hand to be raised, but no one raised their hand out of worry they would be proved wrong and look stupid. He sighed. "Well, to answer the question, yes Ghoul's are impenetrable eighty percent of the time." He began to pace around the front of the class. "Their skin is at least ten times the strength of our own, and cannot be pierced by conventional methods like being shot or stabbed. Their skin would bend the knives, for example. The only ways to pierce a Ghoul would be to attack them when they haven't eaten in months and their Rc cells are weak, or to attack them with another _kagune_." He suddenly stopped pacing. "So, basically we are in a hopeless effort if we were ever to come in contact with a Ghoul. However, again, there is one more exception to this rule. Ghouls have one place on their body that can be pierced and exploited to your advantage." He pulled out a tiny remote that controlled a projector in the back of the class and clicked the button in the center. A huge projection of Ghoul's face came clearly on the board, and Anderson pointed to the eye. "The _mucous membrane_ is the only place on a Ghoul's body that is no different than a humans. If you can destroy their eyes, you can level the playing field in your favor a bit."

Just as Doctor Anderson finished that lecture, the bell to dismiss class went off. "Oh what a shame, things were really about to get interesting." He said in a disappointed voice. "Well, in any case, make sure you read the next chapter and take notes. I'm not saying there will be a quiz tomorrow… but there could very well be a quiz tomorrow."

James could feel his eyes growing heavy as he looked hazily at his paper. His room was completely dark, with the exception of the lamp emanating light onto his desk. He rubbed under his eyes, expecting bags to appear. "Man, this class is literally going to be the death of me." He lowered his face into his hands and let out a long groan of agony. His mouth suddenly became dry, and he decided it best to grab something to drink. As he walked down the dimly lit hallway he happened to peer into his father's room. His father laid asleep on his desk, his lamp shining on his desk in a fashion that mirrored the same as his own. He cracked a wicked smile and quietly entered the room. He picked up a blanket his mother made his father while she was still alive and placed it over his father's unconscious body. "You're always at work father, you and I really need to give ourselves a break. Seeing you alone like this makes me miss mom even more…"

James remembered his mother quite clearly, as if he was staring at a photograph that wasn't there. She was a women of shorter stature and was very thin and as gentle as a flower would be. She was kind and beautiful in the way that age makes you after years of work and stress and her scarlet hair blew in the wind like blood flowing in water. More than anything else though, she was brilliant. She graduated from high school two years earlier than her peers as the undisputed valedictorian, and then began her journey through college to become a biochemist. Her dream was to create a serum that would somehow make it so that Ghouls could consume "human foods" as well and would eliminate the rising conflict between Ghouls and humans. Her father had worked for the CCG and was killed before James could even know him, but despite that his mother had not hated Ghouls. She thought no less of them, and acknowledged that they had the right to live just as much as humans do. She only wanted to aid in the ending of conflict between the two organisms, and eventually bring peace to the world her child was soon to be born into. His father had told James before that she was just on the verge of succeeding in developing a prototype for the formula, but their house was broken into by a gang of Ghouls who beat his father down and ate most of his mother right in front of him. James walked into the room shortly after the Ghouls departed and saw his mother's corpse lying in his bruised father's arms. Shock settled in James' body so quickly and suddenly that he could not even bring himself to cry. His father on the other hand was wailing, and said four words over and over.

 _I'll kill them all… I'll kill them all…_

That night happened fourteen years ago, and since then James and his father had dedicated themselves to researching as much about Ghoul's as possible. His father, who already had a background as a scientist, transferred to the CCG research facility, and soon became so advanced in his knowledge of Kagunes that he became a teacher at the Training Institution for future _Investigators_.

Becoming an Investigator was James' goal in life. He wanted to become a protector of humanity, a gate that no Ghoul could surpass. So that he could protect and preserve humanity and not have to see anyone suffering as his parents had. However, James had one fatal flaw. Investigators were supposed to be advanced in using weapons developed from Kagunes known as Quinques, but James could wield none of them properly. He could not achieve the proper speed and force required to use a sword, and he was unable to use a gun accurately enough to kill in few shots. The only weapons he was truly experienced enough to use were his own fists. Even Senior Investigators had trouble besting James in a fist to fist brawl, but there were no Quinques that had been developed that could be used as gloves. So James was out of luck in his weapons department. But, James' father promised him that he would someday develop a Quinque specifically meant for him, one that he could use as a weapon to protect humanity.

That was two years ago, and his father was still hard at work developing the Quinque. James was grateful, but he was beginning to wonder if it was even possible at this point. He actually had never really looked into his father's research, and suddenly found himself curious. He reached his hand down slowly, and began to slide the papers out from under his father's arm in hopes of not waking him.

"What do you think you're doing, James?"

James jumped nearly out of his skin as he heard his father's groggy voice and looked down to see him looking at him with skeptical eyes. "I-I-I was just uh… curious how your research was going so far father. That's all. I never get to ask you because we're both so busy, so I just wanted to see your progress. I apologize for snooping…"

James' father laughed. "No, son, it's fine. I don't blame you for your curiosity. You're probably just eager to get your hands on that Quinque I promised you, eh?" He punched James playfully in the stomach, and James took it despite the soreness of his entire body from all the physical training he had done this week. He saw James flinch almost unnoticeably and broke out into laughter. "Sadly though, in the two years since I've started, my results have still come to close to nothing."

James sighed and lowered his head in disappointment. "This is hard business, so I suppose this should be expected, right father?"

James' father placed a hand on James' head and ruffled his hair, like his mother did. "On that, you are correct my boy." James lifted his head and looked his father in the eyes. "But don't get discouraged. I promised you I would make a Quinque just for you, and no matter what, you will have it." He smiled an exhausted yet confident grin. James felt admiration for his father and smiled widely. "I understand father. And don't worry about me, I believe in you. I know you'll get it done someday, because you're my father." He walked of his father's room, and closed the door gently behind him, hearing his father's head fall onto the desk with his bearish snoring.

"Man, that quiz totally kicked my ass."

James snapped back to attention. "Really, Roman? I actually didn't find it too difficult."

Roman looked at him with a furrowed brow and pointed a finger at James' nose. "I bet you didn't, Mister _Genius Son of Professor Anderson Who Does Everything Perfectly Cause I'm Just That Good_." They both laughed, Roman more hysterically than James. Roman had called him that since they were in middle school together and James did anything that proved his intellect over Roman's. "But seriously man, screw you. I'm barely passing that class with an eighty-five and you're over here with a perfect score." He looked up at the ceiling of the hallway they were in and shouted with his hands raised. "WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME GOD?!" Roman was of average height, only a few inches shorter than James, and had blonde hair that was slightly over his ears. He had dark blue eyes, and was the perfect picture of what one would imagine when they thought of the Aryan race. He was lean, but not exactly as muscular as James, but carried himself in a confident manner.

James laughed, his friend's misery bringing him a strange sense of amusement, and then looked at Roman caringly. "I don't think you should be blaming gods here. Blame your lack of studying, slacker!" James thumped Roman on his forehead, making a small part in his hair. "Maybe if you applied yourself more then you wouldn't be having so much trouble with these quizzes. It's not a matter of a higher power, just your lack motivation. Dummy."

Roman looked at him blankly. "I have no idea what you're on about, Mr. Perfect. I think I'll just keep winging it." He shrugged his shoulders. "It's worked for me so far." He laughed, and all James could do was sigh and shake his head. Suddenly, James eyes were drawn to the movement of light brown hair, and the reflection of light off of what appeared to be the skin of an angel. He knew immediately who was making her way towards him, as he even recognized the familiar scent. Sarah Adams. The girl who smelled of flowers and coconuts.

"Hello, Roman." Her gaze met James' dreamy eyes. "And hello, James." Her voice was sweet, just as the scent that emanated from her. James could feel his face beginning to flush and simply nodded at her. She tilted her head and looked at James quizzically. "Is something the matter James? You look like you're getting a bit hot." She placed her soft hand on James' forehead, making him flush further.

"N-n-no! I'm fine!" He lowered his face in an attempt to hide his quite obvious embarrassment. "I-I appreciate your concern though, Sarah!"

She smiled at him, thought he did not know that. "Well, if you say so, you weirdo." And then she began to walk away towards her next class.

James looked up and watched her walk away, hating himself for his shyness around her. It was only around her that he felt this way, like his throat was closing up and his heart was beating out of his chest. He accepted that someone like Sarah would never even give him the time of day, but he still somehow had hope that someday things would change.

"Awwwh, it's been nine years and you're still obsessing over her." Roman slapped James on the back. "You really do have a stubborn heart, James."

James laughed. "Well, the heart wants what it wants. Not like you would know that though, Mr. Playboy."

Roman shot him a playful scowl. "Oh please, I fall in love with someone new every weekend, my friend. And might I add, I've been further with every single one than you have with Sarah." He laughed victoriously. "So learn your place, young grasshopper."

"Whatever man, if that helps you sleep at night." James punched Roman on the arm as they walked out the building's front door. A chill summer breeze blew across James' face that felt amazing with the heat from the sun. James was quite hot in his black school uniform, and the breeze was just what he needed right now. He turned his head back and looked at the CCG's Education Building. It was a white concrete building that stood multiple floors high and had many windows that spanned to each of the classes that were held there. The clear windows appeared blue from the outside, making the colors of it quite harmonious. James loved looking at the details of architecture in building around the campus. They all looked so fancy and modern compared to all the older looking buildings in New York. James turned his head back and continued to follow Roman, glancing down at all of the fellow students walking around the campus. He never realized how diverse the people were at the Training Campus, and it made him strangely happy that so many different people were coming together to stop one problem they all had.

 _Ghouls._

James did not hate Ghouls though, he just simply wanted to preserve the lives of humans. He was not bloodthirsty, nor seeking vengeance. He only wanted peace that would last between the two lives that shared New York. And the world.

"James, what would you do if I became a Ghoul?"

The question piqued James' curiosity as he looked at Roman quizzically. "Uh… talk about out of the blue. I'm not even sure how I would react to that, to be honest. I guess I wouldn't have a choice but to take you out Roman." Roman's hurt expression made him second guess his choice. "Not that it wouldn't make me sad though! I think I would only do that though if you were trying to attack me or someone else."

Roman looked at him and laughed. "I understand that, man. I was just wondering what your stance on them was." He lifted his hand and straightened his hair out of his eyes. "I honestly believe that there are Ghouls out there that don't want to hurt us humans. We can't choose the cards we're dealt, so we have to play with them regardless. They didn't choose to be like they are, and I think those good Ghouls have a right to live as well."

"And how do you propose we find who these good Ghouls are, Roman?"

He shrugged. "I haven't gotten that far yet. I'm just saying that we shouldn't just kill Ghouls for no reason." He shot a serious look into James' eyes. "It's literally the same thing as what we think they're doing to us. We can't make a change unless both sides agree to take steps."

"Well, I suppose I do agree with you there. However, my only goal in becoming a CCG Investigator is protecting the lives of us humans. Not everyone is strong enough to fend off a Ghoul. Hell, we barely can ourselves and we're trained to do so."

"No, you barely can. You've got those big muscles, sure, but those do no good unless you've got a Quinque." Roman said with a wink. James merely rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Yeah, I'm quite aware. You and everyone else keeps reminding me." They both laughed as they reached their dorms. Sadly, Roman and James were not able to room together for reasons left unexplained. James' father most likely had something to do with it, James assumed.

"Well, this is where we part." Roman looked at James sheepishly and gave him the goofiest smile he could. "I'll see you tomorrow, bestest buddy!" James could not help but laugh as he watched Roman walk away to his dorm. He ran his fingers through his hair and began to set off for his room. When James arrived at his room he was greeted by the very proper voice of his roommate. "Hello, James." The boy said.

"Hey Jonathan. How was your day?" James replied, very casually. He wasn't quite comfortable enough around Jonathan to treat him like a friend, but Jonathan wasn't a hard person to talk to. He reminded James of a more proper and serious Roman. They both had blonde hair and blue eyes, though Jonathan's hair was longer and his bangs were swooped to the side. His eyes were a very bright sky blue and it made him come off as child-like.

"My day has been rather boring really. I was hoping we would be doing more physical training, but we were stuck doing lab tests all day to try and see the difference between Ghoul and human blood." Jonathan sighed, sat down on his bed and picked up the controller for the X-Box he and James shared. "How about your day, James?"

James sat down beside Jonathan and watched him play what he believed was some Mortal Kombat game. "Well, I had to deal with going to my father's class again, so my day has been rather uncomfortable."

"Is that so? I'm sorry to hear that, man." Jonathan said calmly as he landed the killing blow on the character he was fighting against. "I'm actually happy I don't have to take your father's class. I passed the class fine, but God damn it was boring to me. I enjoy the more physical classes."

"Yeah, I figured as much." James said with a laugh. Jonathan was actually four years older than James, and was actually attending his final year at the Campus. Soon he would be capable of working directly for the CCG as a Junior Investigator. James could very easily visualize Jonathan in the Investigator trench-coats they wear, it almost seemed to fit him perfectly. Jonathan was not that muscular of a person, but he was tall and James assumed he was very lean from the years of training at the Campus. James was actually going to miss Jonathan once he left, though he knew he would be doing much good for the city. "I guess being the valedictorian of your class isn't as easy as I thought it would be."

Jonathan laughed and turned his head towards James, still somehow beating the computer he was facing. "No one in my grade has enough motivation to be an Investigator. The only reason I've done so well is because I'm stuck with a bunch of slackers and I push myself beyond the boundaries of what the professors expect."

Suddenly there was a knocking at the door of their room. James ran to the door and opened it to a boy who looked around the same age as him. He must be in the same year or close to it. "Is my brother here?" The boy said.

James heard the controller of the X-Box hit the floor. "Ah, my beloved younger brother!" Jonathan ran up to the boy and hugged him. "How are your classes going so far, Aldus?"

Aldus returned the hug half-heartedly and kept the same bored look on his face. "Same shit, different year bro. You know how it is." Although it was obvious the boys were related, James could not see any similarities between the two of them. While Jonathan had blonde hair and blue eyes, Aldus had very long brown hair that hung in his face and had deep brown eyes and wore quite thick rimmed glasses. They both had similar builds though, the very tall and lean look. It appeared that neither had ever had a single ounce of fat on their bodies. Though, James knew Jonathan ate like a cow. Quite literally actually, since all he ate was fruit and vegetables. James assumed Aldus had the same diet after seeing them next to each other. "You'd think they would teach us something new after being here for more than a year, but I guess not." Aldus shifted his gaze to James and looked him up and down. "And who might you be?"

James stiffened with anxiousness. "M-My name is James Anderson. It's nice to meet you."

Aldus' face remained the ever calm and cold it was before. "Ah, you're Professor Anderson's kid. I've heard a lot about you. You've got quite the reputation for a freshman, kid." Aldus held out his hand to James. "I'm a year two, my name's Aldus Archer. I'm the somehow more mature younger brother of Jonathan." James took Aldus' hand and shook it. "I look forward to seeing you around, James."

"Are you leaving already Aldus? I never get to see you anymore, why don't you stay a little longer?" Jonathan said with a sad voice.

Aldus looked back to his brother with a neutral expression. "As much as I would love to, I have a training session set up with the rest of my group. I gotta teach them how a true Investigator uses a Quinque." Aldus then turned away from them both and went on his way away from the dorm.

James heard Jonathan sigh and looked over to him. "I really do worry about that guy."

"What do you mean, Jonathan?"

"Well, I just feel like he overworks himself and eventually he's going to burnout from exhaustion. And it'll be even worse if that happens while he's fighting against Ghouls. He thinks he has to carry the weight of everyone and the world. But I know I'm going to be there when he does fall, so I can be a crutch he can lean on."

James suddenly felt admiration for Jonathan. "It must be nice to have an older brother like you, Jonathan. You're smart, talented, and you care so much about him. I only have my dad, and he's always researching every second of the day."

Jonathan put his hand on James' shoulder. "You know, you should be thankful to have him. Aldus and I don't have anyone but each other, and it's always been that way. Sometimes Tragedy is the best thing to bring you closer to your cherished ones. Don't take your father for granted." He squeezed James' shoulder tightly. "Your father is an amazing man, and I know he cares deeply for you. He would always talk about you to me when I had him."

James lowered his head in shame. "Well, I know my father is an amazing man and scientist, and I do appreciate him. In fact, I actually admire my father more than anyone." He slid Jonathan's hand off his shoulder and laughed. "I just wish I had a brother, or someone else close to my age that I could connect with. My father is always so busy, and yeah I guess he technically still is here, but he's never around."

Jonathan got up from the bed and began to walk towards the bathroom. "Well, I'm no therapist, but from the way it sounds it seems like maybe you should spend some more time with your father." Jonathan closed the door behind him as he walked in, leaving James alone to dwell on his thoughts. The things Jonathan said made sense he supposed. James hadn't really gotten to spend time with his father in what felt like years and maybe if he attempted to build the bridge then maybe his father would help too. The thought of this gave James quite unexpected hope and made his heart feel fluttery. "Yes… I'll go see my father." He clenched his fist closed tightly. "We'll be a real family again soon, I know it." He stood up quickly and ran out the door, slamming it behind him.

The cooled breeze of the afternoon wind blew across James' face as he ran towards the main building of the Campus. He shivered a bit, but kept his pace steady and brisk. "Well damn it got cold quickly." He said quietly as he put one of his hands over his mouth and nose to protect them from the cold. His hair was blown back and he could feel his nose becoming a bit congested. "I knew I should've worn a jacket. Now I'm gonna be sick. Damn it all…" After ten minutes of jogging James reached the front door of the main building and pushed it open slowly. He could hear the creaking of the sliding door echo through the dark and empty halls. The presence of the creaking made James question his decision to come here alone as the day had started to turn into night. He was left with a choice of going inside the dark building alone in search of his father or being left alone in the dark outside. Suddenly the dark building didn't sound so bad to him. He quickly stepped inside and pulled the door quickly behind him closed. He decided to check his father's classroom first since that was most likely where he conducted his research. James pulled out his phone and used its light as a makeshift flashlight as he wandered slowly around the progressively darkening halls. "As much as I've been through here you would think I'd be a little more confident." He said sarcastically to himself. "And now I'm talking to myself. Wonderful."

The paranoia of being alone in the dark began to creep through James' chest as he reached the center staircase of the building. He had to go up these stairs to reach his father's room, but the stretching and moving shadows at the top of them made him weary. After a few moments, James steeled himself and set off up the stairs. When he ascended 7 floors he turned off the stairs and took a right as he usually did. His father's room number was 705, so he thought he would be there soon. However, James' slow and cautious pace was making the trek much longer than it normally would have been. He would stop when he saw the movement of a shadow and watch it for five minutes. He would wait until its true shape appeared to him, as it was normally a tree branch, and then begin the slow cycle again. This happened many times, but eventually he reached his father's classroom. When he opened the door he saw nothing in the room except for light dimly coming out of the lab. _The lab must be where my father is_ , he thought. He was too jumpy to make any sort of noise, so he very slowly prodded his way to the lab and opened the door. The room was dark and empty with the exception of one lamp that shined from the center table. James walked over to it and picked up the numerous amounts of paper that lay spread across the table. There were words all over the papers in James' father's very recognizable handwriting, but James could barely follow the direction of what was written. It was a complete mess, and it was completely unlike his father. He saw many words circled on the paper in very bright red ink that were much darker than anything else. _Kagune. Ghouls. Quinque. Unsuccessful. Failure. Vessel. Surgery. Operation._ And at the very bottom he saw one word that struck him like none of the others.

 _James._

Why was his name on the paper? What did he have to with his father's research? Was this his notes on the Quinque his father was trying to develop for him? So many questions raced through James' mind as he began feeling dizzy. He needed to find his father as soon as possible.

Suddenly the creaking of the class' doors resonated through the class and into the lab and James' heart sank. He was petrified and if he got caught this late in the building then he would be in serious trouble. He knew he had to do something to keep from losing this opportunity at becoming an Investigator. _I'm this close, I can't let someone ruin this for me…_ He looked around the lab quickly for something he could use as a weapon to knock whoever it was coming toward the lab out. There were many things that were used during experiments laid across the tables and in the cabinets, but James settled on a very large and thick beaker that hid in the back of one of the cabinets. He grabbed hold of it and the lamp, in hopes of blinding the person before knocking them out, and hid behind the table closest to the door. He braced himself as he heard the lab's door sliding across the slick floor. The person's footsteps were very brisk and soft, almost as if they were sneaking around as well. Thankfully James' training aided him in being able to detect even the softest of sounds or he would not have known the person had entered the lab. He waited until he heard the footsteps right next to the table and blared the light in their direction. When he stood up as fast as he could and prepped himself to attack he thankfully caught a glimpse of the person's face. They had medium length blonde hair and were quite thin and of medium height.

It was the Aryan coconut himself. Roman.

"Roman?" James said hysterically. "What the hell are you doing here man?!"

"I came to look for you, you psycho!" Roman saw what James was holding and pieced together what was about to happen. "Were you seriously about to try and knock me out with a fucking glass beaker? Dude. You've really lost it." He chuckled a bit and slapped the beaker out of James' hand. Surprisingly it didn't shatter and made a very strong thud against the ground. "Well, maybe it would've worked. Shit." He said in a dumbfounded voice.

"Do you know how much trouble we could be in if we get caught in here this late?!" James whispered forcefully at Roman.

Roman looked at him with one of his signature sarcastic looks. "Why yes I do, asshole. Now, do you know? Since you were the one who came here alone."

"Speaking of which, how did you know I would be here? I did come here alone so..."

Roman shrugged. "I went by your room to try and ask for help on this Ghoul Biology homework, but when Jonathan was the one who answered I figured you weren't there. So I asked him where you were and, naturally, he didn't know. Then said you guys were talking about spending time with your father so I assumed you were going to find him. Knowing your dad, he would probably be researching and his classroom would be the first place to check."

James brought his hand up to his face and rubbed under his eyes in frustration. "Yeah, that's what I thought too. But he isn't here. This lamp was turned on and everything but there was no one here that could've turned it on."

"Maybe he's walking around the building?"

James tilted his head. That thought hadn't crossed his mind somehow. "You could be right. But I really don't want to wander this dark building in search of someone else in the dark. That's sketchy as hell man."

Roman sat on the table across from James and laid back. "I guess our best option is to just relax our happy asses here and wait." His blonde hair flowed like strands of light onto the table and stood out clearly in the darkness.

"Well, when you put it like that, I guess we don't have a choice." James said as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He opened the top and placed one of them in his mouth. "You got your lighter on you?"

Roman reached into his pocket and tossed it to James. "You know your dad would kick your ass if he knew you smoke behind his back, right?" James clicked the lighter a few times before a small spurt of flame came out. "Yeah, but he did the same when he was my age. So he literally has no room to scold me." James said before he inhaled the smoke and let it flow out of his nostrils. Roman shook his head and looked down at his cell phone and proceeded to text a random number who James assumed belonged to the girl of the week. It must be nice to the heart of a wanderer like Roman had. The thought of Sarah instantly came into James' mind. He painted a picture of her like he usually did in times like this. Her smooth tanned skin and long dark hair flowing in the wind. Her piercing green eyes standing out like emeralds in a mass of darkness. She was truly the most beautiful human being James had ever laid eyes on and she meant more to him than a majority of anyone in the world. And yet, she had no idea how much she truly meant to him. James was just another face in the crowd to her, just another shadow on the wall, just another star in the sky. Nothing about him stood out to her and she would forever be ignorant to his love. He let the calming burn of the cigarettes take over him as his thoughts of her became void and his body went numb.

Thirty minutes of silence passed between Roman and James before the sound of footsteps began to echo through the halls again. James and Roman both turned their heads toward the sound and began walking out of the lab and towards the classroom's door. James flung the door open and peered outside and saw a figure that was familiar even in darkness.

His father stood directly in front of the door.

"Father!" James said excitedly. "I've been looking and waiting for you! Where have you been?"

James father said nothing as he stared down coldly at his son. His eyes appeared bloodshot and had bags under them. He had something on his cheek but James could not tell what it was in the dark. "James? Why are you here this late?" James noticed that his father's voice sounded hollow compared to how full it usually was. He didn't sound like himself. "I came to help you research, father. I want to help you." Roman walked up next to James. "And Roman just came to find me, but I'm sure he could help too. I don't want you to do this alone anymore father. I want to spend more time with you." James thought he almost sounded like a child saying things like this, but then his father placed a hand on James' and Roman's cheeks.

" _You two have brought me everything I need to finish my research_."

The statement was simple, but it perplexed James. He looked at his father with eyes that had many questions, but all he could mutter was "What?" before suddenly he felt the force of his father's hand pushing his and Roman's head towards each other. It was almost unhuman and neither had any time to react. There was a loud cracking noise as their heads collided and darkness began to sway over James' vision. His eyes were rolling up in their sockets as hid body descended slowly to floor. Everything was in slow-motion as he fell limp, but he caught a single glimpse of his father before unconsciousness took over him.

His father stood over them with a maniacal look on his face that one would see on a mad scientist. He wore a smile that stretched from ear to ear, and the bags under his eyes only made the darkness of his eyes appear that much more like an abyss. He was laughing, though James heard nothing from the impact. In the single moment James could see what was on his father's cheek. It was blood. Scarlet blood that stained his cheek and the rest of his father's clothes. He had two buckets at his sides that were filled with blood as well, from who knows what, and now he and Roman were at the will of the madman who had taken his once gentle father's place.

The chill of freezing water made James surge back into the realm of consciousness. He tried to stand up but fell almost instantly. His body felt numb from the hips down, the feeling of needles prickling through him. "What the hell…" He muttered. The room he was in was pitch black and the floor was cold on James legs. He also felt some form of liquid on the floor, and for some reason the scent of it made him quiver with thirst. Instinctually, he raised his hands to his face and began to consume to liquid in large handfuls. The taste was like nothing he had ever tasted before. It had the consistency of water, but flowed thickly like some form of vegetable juice. It tasted of the finest of wine though. James could not control himself and must have appeared like a wild animal consuming its prey.

Suddenly, the creaking of a metallic door scraping across the floor filled the room and made James jump at attention. A small bit of light crept into the room as a tall figure stood at the door. It walked forward and when it got to the center of the room reached its hand up towards what appeared to a chain hanging from the ceiling. The figure pulled the chain down and bright white light exposed the contents of the room. It was a large square room that had walls consisting of mirrors and the mirrors also stretched up to the roof. There was a surgical table on the far side of the room away from James. Blood spread on the floor under the table and reached out towards James' direction. This made James look down at his hands that were covered in scarlet. "No… No… It couldn't be…"

The liquid he was consuming was blood.

He gagged and tried to throw up the blood, but he could not bring himself to. Tears began to slowly fall from his eyes onto the floor with the blood that surrounded him. Then, he looked down at his hands. The backs of them were completely black, and the darkness stretched up all the way to his shoulders. There were stitches on both his arms and they both were completely black. He began to shiver and looked at the man who stood in the middle of the room. He wore a fully protective body suit that was covered in blood. He was bald and was wearing black goggles and had a surgical mask on.

"So you've finally come to. Good. I was waiting patiently to see how you would develop."

The voice was deep and felt almost familiar. "W-who are you…? What did you do to me…?" James said weakly. His body was shaking uncontrollably from fear and disgust of what he was becoming. The man only laughed and hung his head backwards. He removed the goggles and mask that hid his now recognizable face.

"It's me James. Your daddy dearest." Said James' father in an eerily calm voice.

James' eyes went wide with shock. "F-father… Why did you… What did you…?"

James' father walked over to him and knelt down on one knee and placed a hand on James' shoulder. "I simply completed my research James. I finally developed the Quinque I always promised you. Look." He reached down and pulled one of James' arms up. "This Quinque and you are now the pride of my research, James. You honestly have no idea how difficult it was to get this to come together and work."

James jerked his arm away from his father and began to slide away from him fearfully. "What do you mean by that?!" His father got up and began slowly walking towards his retreating son. "James, I wanted to make the perfect weapon for you. I wanted to help you become the absolute wall that no Ghoul could get over and attack humanity. They underestimate our constant potential to evolve. What I did was take all the different Rc cells in each of the four types of kagune and I put them all into one organ. You now have a little bit of every Ghoul running through your veins James'. He pulled a medical scalpel out of his pocket and then went to stab at James. James pulled up his arms in fear and screamed. However, James felt nothing and heard the sound of metal snapping. He glanced up and saw the blade of the scalpel flying in the air and falling to the ground. "You see James, your Quinque has the defensive properties of the _Koukaku_ and the brute force and regenerative prowess of the _Rinkaku_. It also has the flexibility of the _Bikaku_ to stand evenly with every other Kagune, and has the placement of the _Ukaku_. You're a little bit of everything, my boy." James' father grinned so genuinely it made James' stomach retch. "However, there were a few things I had to… adjust you to. You see, no normal human body could handle a mass of Rc cells being added into the bloodstream that quickly. The abundant Rc cells would soak up all the blood and eventually consume the body's tissue over time. You would decompose a little every day and die painfully from the inside out. To fix that, there was only one solution I could come up with. I shifted the Kagune sacs up to your shoulder blades and cut both of your arms off and re-attached a Ghoul's arms onto your body. It was a very bloody process, but after I was able to stitch the arms on, the Rc cells began to sow the wounds closed and even connected all the blood vessels and tendons together. It saved me so much work, but then your arms started to rapidly decompose. They started turning black and becoming misshapen and swollen. I panicked, and did what I do best." He dug his hand into James' dirty hair and pulled him towards him. He reached for James' shirt and ripped it open. On James' chest was a large scar that stretched all the way down to his lower abdomen. "I cut you open and figured out the problem. All I needed to do was replace the organs in your body with ones that would support the Rc cells. That's what I assumed, at least, and so far you haven't died yet. Hell, I would say in your short time in this new life that you've evolved past most Ghouls. Your arms became solid like steel, and you regenerated almost instantaneously." He squeezed James' cheeks together forcefully with his free hand. "I couldn't make you a Quinque to specially suit you, so I made you the first walking Kagune. Be proud, my son…" He pushed James back forcefully, making James' face scrape the floor.

"But father… why? Why do I thirst for blood like a Ghoul? If I'm a living Kagune then isn't that just the same as becoming a Ghoul?" He asked weakly as he could barely lift himself up. His father's foot came down on his temple and James yelped with pain.

"You are not a monster like them James, I merely had to change your structure a bit to make you better suited for your new role." His father yelled down at him, some spit flying onto James' face.

"My… new role?"

His father moved his foot away and began to walk away towards the door he entered through. He turned his head to the side as he grabbed the handle to the door.

"Yes my son. You are no longer a wall for humanity, but now our sword."

With that said, James' father slammed the door behind him. The light in the room steadily filled James' vision, but he would've rather it been dark. He could see himself in all of the mirrors on the walls and ceilings, and even through the reflection of the blood splattered on the floor. Everywhere he looked all he saw was a monster. A monster living in a body that once was his, a monster lying in a pool of some stranger's blood, and a monster who wore his face like mask. He crawled his body slowly towards one of the mirrors and placed his hands on the mirror where the monster put his as well. They were connected through the touch of the mirror, and James then let his head fall towards the mirror in defeat. His and the monster's foreheads were now connected. He lifted his gaze up to stare it in the eyes. He suddenly felt weak as he saw blue eyes the same exact tone as his stare back at him weakly. Suddenly he jumped and he saw a shade of darkness overtake the monster's right eye and its iris turn a deep shade of scarlet. He pulled his fist back and slammed it into the mirror. He felt the shock of the mirror shattering through his fist, but he felt no pain. No shards of glass could pierce his now hardened flesh. However, the glass did manage to crack perfectly down the middle of his forehead. The loose glass cut open James' head and a light stream of his own blood oozed down the mirror for a bit. After a second though, the Rc cells in his body began to stitch the wound closed. They were like little spindles of blood patched his skin back together. "It really is almost instantaneous…" He said weakly. The reality of his current disposition sinking in. This was no dream, not even a nightmare. He would not be waking up after a few hours. This is the reality he was now stuck in. He was now a monster.

"I'm a Ghoul…"

He said weakly as he let his body fall backwards. His body made no noise as it made an impact with the ground. He felt nothing, his body was already numb to everything. He laid there on the floor in the pool of blood for hours thinking about nothing and everything at the same time. He imagined the sun setting and moon rising outside, as he could not see them for himself, and made up increments of time to keep himself from going insane. He would count to sixty and then start over, trying to make assumptions at the current hour of whatever day he was in. The only thing he was sure of now was that he was one of the monsters that stole his mother away and made his father become this way. He was a monster. He was a Ghoul. Hours dragged by, or so James assumed from his nonstop counting, and eventually James fell into unconsciousness. He was not tired, but his body just forced him to close his eyes and fade into nothing. He only wished he could literally fade into nothing as he let himself go.

When James opened his eyes he felt a tremendous pain rush through his body. His stomach began convulsing and he could feel himself beginning to feel nauseous. His body must not be adjusted to the new organs or his Ghoul desires. He was hungry. It felt as though he hadn't eaten anything in weeks, and his tongue felt dry and shriveled. His throat felt as though it was closed, and he could not make any sort of noise. _I need to find something to drink, now…_ He looked around the room, though he could not see properly. His vision was blurry and it disoriented him. He tried crawling along the floor to feel for something, and he eventually stuck his hand in a pool of blood. As soon as he felt the chill of it on his fingers he stuck his head down to the floor and slid his tongue across the floor. He imagined he looked like a dog licking something off the floor, but he cared not. The immediate satisfaction of the blood running down his throat helped him gain composure again. He lifted his head and began cupping the blood into his hands and lifting it up and pouring it down his throat.

However, James stopped once he realized what he was doing. He threw his hands away from his face, splattering blood on the mirrors, and stuck his black fingers into his mouth to try and throw the blood back up. He started crying from his weakness to the pain, and eventually fell on his side. The pain he had before had suddenly come back and was stronger than last time. He began to scream and dug his fingers into his sides as he rolled around the floor. It felt like someone was stabbing him in the stomach from the inside.

"You shouldn't resist me like that, kid." Came a voice from the corner of the room.

James lifted his head to locate the other person in here with him, but saw no one. "Who the hell is there?!" He screamed out. One of his eyes was consumed with the black and scarlet like before. He wasn't able to control it like other Ghouls yet, so it must react with his emotions.

Suddenly, a figure gowned in loose white pants and a white hoodie stepped out from the darkness of a corner. Its hood covered its face so James could not tell who it was, but it had a recognizable voice. "You look like shit." It said as it pulled the hood away from its face. "But then again, you always look like shit. Compared to me, at least." The figure's face sent James into shock. The figure was a mirror image of himself, with the exception of paler skin and hair that was white like the moon. Both of his eyes were black and scarlet like a normal Ghoul and his voice was more gravelly than James'. He walked over to James and picked him up by his throat. James gagged as he felt his throat closing again. "You're pathetic. Why do you resist when you know you need to consume this blood? The person is already dead. You're not hurting anyone, you're just doing what you have to so you can survive." He then slammed James facedown into the blood and rubbed his face around in the blood, smearing it on the floor and in his hair. "Now soak up this damn blood like you're a fucking mop, boy. DRINK, DRINK, DRINK, DRINK, DRINK YOU BASTARD. DRINK!"

James could feel his will to hold on to consciousness fade as his face slid around in the blood. He felt it getting into his eyes and up his nose, however he kept his mouth closed adamantly. The only blood he could taste was his own. "I refuse…" James mumbled as he angled his head to the side.

"What was that, faggot?" The figure said cockily.

"I said…" James began and then at a speed he didn't know he was capable of he turned his body and landed the back of his fist into the figure's head, sending it flying across the room. His spine was still attached to the head and was removed cleanly out of the body. The head made impact with one of the mirrors, shattering the mirror and spewing blood and brains all across the broken glass. Strangely enough, the figure's blood was black instead of red. "I said I refuse, you bastard."

"Impressive." Came the figure's voice. James looked around the try and find where it was coming from, but saw nothing. There was no way he could still be alive after that hit, but after James blinked he saw the figure standing over him again. Its head reattached to its body. "Impressive that you still have that amount of strength despite the fact that you're starving." The figure brought down its foot onto James' chest and pressed him to the ground. "But I'm not someone you can beat by just physically dominating me. I'm a part of your mind."

James began breathing erratically and grabbed onto the figure's leg, but his fingers fazed completely through it. He couldn't touch the figure now, but it could touch him. "What the hell are you…?" He asked weakly.

The figure grinned a twisted looking smile. "I'm the "you" that you need to embrace, idiot. This is what you will become once you accept your Ghoul nature and embrace what you are now. It's either become me, or let yourself die from starvation. Though, I doubt that'll happen with you. You barely have enough control over yourself to resist gorging on that blood alone, much less a whole human body. The second flesh is presented to you, I can almost guarantee you'll consume it without a second's hesitation."

"H-how do you know that?" James said as he pushed his body off the ground, the figure's foot still planted firmly on his chest. The figure laughed and then put enough force behind its foot to push James back down on the floor and slide across it. He slid far enough to crash into the mirror on the opposite side of the room.

"I know, because I am you…"

The figure began fading away like smoke through the air until it no longer remained in the room with James. James was all alone again, or so he hoped.

James let himself lie on the floor for what felt like an eternity. He could not bring himself to move, but could also not bring himself to sleep. The pain of his hunger still stabbed at his insides, but he started to become numb throughout again. He wanted to feel the pain.

He wanted to die more than anything.

Four days passed before James' father came back to the warehouse he was keeping James in. James could very easily break out of it, but he made sure that James was weak of starvation and thirst before allowing him to wake up as a Ghoul. The four Rc cell types would force James to need to consume blood and flesh at four times the normal rate of any other type of Ghoul, so by now the James should be weak enough to where he could have a physical advantage over him. When he arrive and slid the warehouse door open though, James' condition took him by surprise. He was huddled up in one of the corners of the room, and his body had become shriveled and incredibly thin. The muscle that once covered his body was gone and his ribs were clearly visible. He looked like a skeleton hiding in the corner. The blood that once covered the floor was completely gone, most likely devoured by James. He carried buckets filled with blood and flesh in it to feed to James, to see how his body reacted to consuming a human. When he got closer to James his head shot up and his eyes were twitching at him. One of his eyes became black and his nostrils flared as he smelled the scent of blood and flesh. Saliva began to drip out the sides of James' mouth as he let out a low cry. His mouth and tongue were too dry to form any words, and he outstretched his hands toward his father and the buckets. James' father smiled sickly with satisfaction. "My boy must be hungry." He sat the buckets down in front of James and began backing away. "Go on my boy, eat up."

James started crawling towards the bucket slowly, his black arms pulling his body completely. Once he got to the bucket and looked into it he could pick apart the different parts of someone's internal organs and skin. The skin was rather pale, but not pitch white. He could bits of hair floating around in the blood, but that bothered him not. He counted all the other organs he could recognize in the buckets: a kidney, heart, bits of brain, pancreas, segments of the small intestine, random bones scattered in there for James to break and eat the marrow that lied in them, and a single blue eyeball floating around. The particular shade of the blue appeared familiar to James, but he disregarded it stuck his hands into the first bucket and began consuming all of its contents. Every organ and piece of skin had a very specific taste, but none like he had tasted when he was human. They taste was blissful, and the marrow from the bones was somehow sweet on his tongue as it slid down his throat. After he finished scraping the bits small intestine into his mouth he picked up the bucket and dumped it over his body, the blood falling down him. He got most of it in his mouth, but some ran over his cheeks and down him. He could see the muscles of his body beginning to redevelop. His arms were starting to become wide and lean as they once were, and his chest was beginning to expand. His ribs were also no longer visible, as if the consumed flesh instantly replaced his own lost flesh.

When he moved to the next bucket he picked up the eye that floated in the blood. He gazed into it and saw his reflection in the pool of bright blue in the iris. He really looked like a monster now. Blood covered a majority of his face and body, it stained his clothes, and the one black eye made him stand out tremendously. He tossed the eye into his mouth and swallowed it whole, and moved on to the rest of the contents. It didn't take James as long to consume this bucket's contents, however when he reached the bottom of the bucket he found something that shocked his mind and destroyed his mind.

There was a head at the bottom of the bucket, hidden in all of the blood. The head had strands of blonde hair that stuck to the face. It was also missing one of the eyeballs.

It was the severed head of Roman.

Every organ, piece of flesh, bone, and every ounce of blood he was drinking was that of his best friend in the entire world. Flashbacks of memories with Roman began to flash through James' mind as he screamed as loud as he could. There were tears flowing down his face freely and he began to grab at his own throat to try and choke himself. He planted his face flatly onto the ground and could feel blood flowing down his neck from the pressure of his hands, but almost instantly the wounds sewed themselves closed.

" _WHY GOD WHY… WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS…? WHY… WHY…WHY… WHY…WHY… WHY… WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY_!" James yelled in frustration as he began to bang his head against the floor repeatedly. The skin on his forehead broke and healed instantly, leaving small marks of blood on the floor.

"God?" chimed in James' father. "I thought I taught you better than to believe in nonsense like God." He walked over to James and stood over him while he talked down to his monster son. "If there was truly a God in this world like people think there is then monsters like Ghouls wouldn't exist in the first place. My wife… Your mother would still be alive, and we would never have needed to get to this point. You would still be human, and Roman would still be alive. Don't blame some goddamn superstitious shit like "God", boy! Blame the ones who are the real problem! Blame the fucking ghouls, you fool!" James suddenly stopped sobbing and screaming and froze in place. A realization suddenly hit him from listening to his father scream. "God" wasn't the one he should be blaming for this. God had nothing to do with this. This entire mess was all because of one person, and one person alone.

James moved his black hands at a speed he didn't know possible around his father's neck and began lifting him off the ground as he stood up. "You know…you're right, old bastard… But you're also wrong too. I don't blame the Ghouls for this happening… Not one bit…" He applied pressure around his father's neck and heard slight popping. His father began struggling to no avail. He clawed and began hitting James' arms. He must've forgotten that he no longer felt any sensation though this arms that weren't his.

" _I BLAME YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH!_ "

Blood began to fall out of his father's nose from the applied pressure on his neck. His eyes began to feel like they were bulging out of his head, and his ears were ringing. "James, stop… you can't do this to me." He gagged and coughed out blood that fell onto James' hands. "I'm your father…"

"AND THAT'S EXACTLY WHY YOU NEED TO PAY FOR THIS! NO FATHER WOULD DO THIS TO HIS ONLY SON! I TRUSTED YOU! I IDOLIZED YOU! I WANTED TO BE JUST LIKE YOU! I WANTED TO MAKE YOU PROUD! I WANTED TO STAND BY YOUR SIDE AND HELP YOU THROUGH THE LOSS OF MOM, BUT ALL YOU DID WAS PUSH ME AWAY AND STAY TO YOURSELF!" he squeezed his father's neck further, making blood begin to fall from his eyes. "YOU TURNED ME INTO THIS, FATHER!"

" _AND NOW YOUR MONSTER IS GOING TO KILL YOU…"_

James continued to apply pressure to his father's neck increasingly as time went by. His father continued to struggle, unable to make a small amount of noise from a lack of air, to no avail. Blood continued to flow from his eyes, nose, and now his ears. James squeezed, and squeezed, and squeezed, and squeezed, until suddenly his father's eyes rolled back into his head and his face turned blue. James threw his father's body on the floor and moved his hands down to his father's sides. There were indentions in his neck where James' fingers were pressed firmly against it, but James paid it no attention. His vision was blurred from rage, and he began to dig his fingers into his father and between his ribs on both sides. He grabbed a hold of one rib bone on each side and yanked it out of his father's body. He brought them up to his mouth and licked the blood off of them before jamming them down into his father's arms, pinning him to the ground.

" _I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU…_ " James whispered in a distorted voice that he could barely recognize as his own. He brought his bloody hand up to both sides of his father's head and began pushing his hands towards each other. His father's head began to give in to James' force and his skull began cracking. James didn't have time to react before his hands became connected and his father's brain became mush in his hands. There were bits of flesh, brain, and bone spread on the warehouse floor and in James' hand. If it was anyone else but the man who was "his father" he would've felt sympathy, but like James' new arms, his heart was black and felt nothing anymore.

James got back onto his feet and spat on his father's corpse before walking towards the door his father entered through. When he reached the door, he kicked it open and walked outside for the first time in what felt like an eternity. The warmth of sunlight kissed James' pale skin gently and it was the first bit of warmth he'd felt since he was trapped in the darkness. It felt like a hug he had once desired from his father. _Father._ That word now meant nothing to him.

Hours passed as James walked aimlessly through the intricate alleyways of what he assumed was still New York. It was dark now, and the people of the city were all crammed into their houses in fear of Ghouls. How ignorant they were. Ghouls needed not to wait until the dark to attack. Hell, if they wanted they could kick down the doors of any apartment and have a feast on whoever's unfortunate body and their family that were hiding in there. Ignorance is bliss, as it seemed. The thought made James' stomach growl slightly, and a rush of power surged through James. He would never go hungry again. He could do whatever he pleased, and no one could stop him. The world dealt him cards and his father had taken them away. But now, James would steal whoevers cards he pleased.

And speaking of stealing someone's cards, James saw a woman running down the sidewalk that was connected to alley he was walking down. Her scent filled his nose, the scent of strawberries or something sweet. His eye became black again and his arms became twitchy. He pulled his hood up over his head and licked his lips.

"Time to eat…"

James had managed to follow the woman completely undetected for thirty minutes. He remained a few yards behind her the whole time and was able to duck under cover every so often she looked behind her. His reaction had become enhanced from the Rc cells, and he never lost her scent so he was able to follow her when she turned corners sharply. Eventually, they had reached the apartment building she was staying at. She rushed through the front door and James followed quickly. When James came through he saw her inside of an empty elevator and rushed in to ride with her. He covered his right eye with his hand and barely caught the elevator's closing door. "I'm so sorry, would it be a hassle if I rode this with you?" He said in the best charming voice he could muster.

"Uhhh sure, I suppose." The girl said a very skeptical voice. She had obviously taken notice in James covering his eye and became nervous. "Is something wrong with your eye?"

 _Shit._ James thought. _I need to think of some excuse here. I wasn't prepared for this._ James removed his hand, but kept his eyelids closed to hide his eye. "Well, when I was young my brother and I would get into fights, and one day he just punched me in the eye. It really messed up my vision, so I just keep my eye closed to avoid people seeing how gross it looks now."

"Well, I guess that makes sense in some way." She then put her hand onto the dial for the floors and pressed the button for the sixth floor. She turned her head towards James and looked him in the eye. "What floor are you staying on?"

James smiled convincingly. "Same as you, sixth."

"Oh, how convenient!" She stepped back beside James and waited patiently for the elevator to reach her floor. James began eyeing her and taking in her features. She looked about twenty or thirty, James couldn't tell. She had a young look in her face, but had wrinkles and bags under her eyes most likely from the stress of work. Her long blonde hair was pulled up into a ponytail that stretched down to the nape of her neck. She had long, thin legs and a small torso. She appeared to not have an ounce of meat on her, sadly. James wasn't in the mood for a scrawny girl. He wanted meat. However, she would do.

After a few moments of silence, the elevator reached the sixth and rang. The opened and the both of them stepped outside. The woman looked back at James and she got to her room. 607 was her room number, James made sure to note that in his mind. "I guess this is where we part ways. It was nice meeting you though, stranger." She held out her hand and James took it. The heat of her body flowed through James' hand and he shivered slightly. "I have a feeling we'll meet again soon sometime, miss." James replied smiled innocently. And with that, she closed the door to her apartment behind her. "Sooner than you think…" James whispered and walked into the darkness of the hotel floor.

The woman locked the door behind her and walked over to the counter of her apartment. _What an odd guy._ She thought. She let her hair down and placed her purse on the counter. She stretched her arms and let out a long yawn. "I really need a shower. Physical training really killed my back today." She walked into her apartment bathroom and unbuttoned her jacket and slid off her grey t-shirt. She reached into her shower and turned the hot water on as high as it would go, and barely turned the cold on. She wasn't a fan of cold showers, she preferred the steam and heat of a nice hot shower. After getting the water to the perfect temperature, she took off her shorts and her underwear. She looked at the mirror at her body. It was covered in scars and bruises and was nothing but lean muscle. From the outside, she seemed like a defenseless, thin girl, but she was actually a well-trained individual in mixed martial arts. Her entire body was a weapon that could kill a human in many ways. She ran her hands up her sides and squeezed her hips gently. No man would ever find a woman as beaten as she beautiful, but did that really matter at this point? She disregarded the thought of men and stepped into the shower. The warmth covered her like a warm embrace no man could ever bring her. She leaned her head back and let the water flow through her bright blonde hair and down her bruised, lean back. She closed her eyes and let the comfort consume her.

James sat quietly beside the woman's door, and laid in wait for the perfect moment to spring. He could hear the running of water coming from the inside of the apartment and knew this was his best opportunity. He got up and squeezed the knob gently at first, only to find that it was locked. Not surprising. So, James did the only thing he could think to do. He kicked the door in and stormed into the room. Her apartment was dark, and he was positive the woman had no way to defend herself in her vulnerable state. He walked calmly to the bathroom door and kicked that door in as well. When he walked in, he was perplexed at the sight of a missing woman from the shower. He could still smell her, and she was definitely in this room, but she wasn't in the shower.

"Looking for someone?" Came a voice from behind James. Before he had time to react, an arm reached from behind him and wrapped around his neck. He darted his eyes around, but his vision suddenly became blurry as his body was being moved through the air. This small woman was hip tossing James out of the bathroom and onto her apartment floor. When his body collided with the floor, he instantly tried to bounce up to his feet, but the woman brought her fist down and it connected with his nose.

"GAH!" he exclaimed in pain. His nose was bleeding and was most likely fractured. "You bitch! I'll kill…" But before he could finish his sentence her foot was brought down onto his neck. He gagged as she applied pressure to his neck.

"You wanna keep talking shit, asshole? You're being pinned by a naked woman who's way smaller than you. Feel like a man yet?" She twisted her foot on his neck. James tried to say something but was cut off before he could muster anything. The woman glared down at James' face and saw one of his eyes was black. "So you were a Ghoul, huh? No wonder you seemed too nice. No human man is that nice." She lowered her body closer to his face and spit in his eye. "And I hate to break it to you, but you're at the mercy of a Grade Two Investigator. I could kill you right now if I wanted to." She slid her hand over to a drawer of the counter and pulled out a long combat knife. It had a black hilt, and half of the blade was bright red with the other half being black like the hilt. "This is my Quinque, _Gilgamesh._ " She moved the knife against James' ear and began cutting into it. James screamed and winced in immense pain. The blade felt as if it were vibrating very quickly to make it easier to slice his flesh. "I just thought you should know the name of the one who kills you."

James could feel every inch of flesh that the vibrating blade was slicing in half as she inched her way closer to his skull. His body wasn't responding to his commands, he was running out of oxygen, and there was an insane woman with a knife about to cut the upper half of his head off. Even if he did survive this somehow, he would be good for only a short amount of time until he would have to eat again. He was doomed to a constant life of preying on the things he'd sworn to protect. Did he really even want to live a life like that? The thought hadn't occurred to him until that moment.

His life began to flash before his eyes. He could see memories of his mother and him when he was a child. Their red hair was the same hue and they had the same color eyes as well. They were in a field, and he was riding on his mother's shoulders. His hair was blowing back in the wind and they both were laughing. He then saw her lying next to him in his bed, running her fingers through his hair and holding him against her. She kissed his forehead and got up to leave. He woke up shortly after that and walked to the living room, where he then saw his father clutching onto his mother's corpse and howling into the night.

Still images of himself and Roman, and all of the other people he considered friends also popped into his mind. Jonathan and Aldus talking about work, and then them all playing video games together. He remembered the first time he smoked a cigarette with Jonathan in their dorm and Jonathan laughing at his coughing. However, his mind stopped on the thought of someone else.

Sarah.

James remembered how beautiful she was and how pure her heart was. She never regarded James in the way he regarded her, but he knew she thought of him as at least a friend. The few times they had spoken made that very apparent. James wanted to just be close to her, and raise a family with her. He wanted to comfort her, hold her hand, kiss her, and grow old with her. But that would never happen now. Now that he was a monster. It was also very likely that he would never even get to see her again, and even if he did then she would probably try to kill him as well. James let go of the woman's ankle and let his hand fall.

 _Please… just kill me quickly…_

He closed his eyes and waited on the blade to pierce the rest of his skull, but instead he heard her scream and felt blood dripping onto his face. When he opened his eyes again he saw four red blobs of what appeared to be blood flowing into the shape of a tentacle. He instantly recognized the blobs to be Kagunes. He looked up and saw one of the tentacles wrapped around the woman's throat, two others around both her wrists, and the final pierced through her stomach. She was gagging and was coughing up blood. She was clearly struggling to move her arms to no avail. A voice echoed through the room suddenly.

"Surprise, motherfucker."

James turned back towards the doorway and saw the figure whom the voice was coming from. It was what appeared to be a boy only a few inches shorter than himself dressed in fairly baggy black clothing. He wore a hood that covered a majority of his face with the exception of his jaw and mouth. The boy began walking closer to the two of them and James slid himself away from the boy as he approached. However, he paid no attention to James in the slightest. James saw him begin to lick his lips as he approached the trapped CCG Investigator.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here." The boy rubbed his finger along his kagune to get some blood on it, and then brought it to his lips. He licked his finger clean and angled his head a bit. "Hmmm… AB blood it seems. How unlucky for you." The boy threw his hood back and a mess of shaggy dark hair fell down the back of his neck and the sides of his head. He brought one of his hands to his chin and cracked his neck on both sides. It sounded to James like the boy's neck was shattering with how loud the cracking echoed through the room.

" _YOU'RE MY FAVORITE…"_

In an almost undetectable speed, the boy slashed his hand through the Investigator's neck. Her head fell to the floor and bounced twice before rolling to James' feet. The boy lowered her body then bit into her neck. James could see the tendons and flesh being ripped off as the boy pulled his head back. The boy leaned his head forward a bit when he finished chewing to help all of the meat go down his throat. When he finished swallowing the meat, he continued consuming her.

James sat for five minutes and watched the boy eat the Investigator. The sound of bones breaking and tissue being ripped resonated through the apartment and James caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a true predator. Is this how he looked when he ate? Was he this terrifying? His stomach suddenly growled loudly, causing him to flinch and the boy to stop from his meal and shoot a wide eyed glare at James. The boy's eyes were the same abyss of black all Ghoul's have, but his irises were a bright shade of scarlet. Smalls black lines that resembled cracks ran from his eyes to his temples. The brightness of his scarlet eyes bleed through the darkness as they pierced into James' own eyes. Suddenly, the boy's eyes went wide with surprise. "Holy shit!" He yelled. "You're a One-Eye!" He got up and dragged the Investigator's corpse behind him like a ragdoll as he walked over to James. The boy knelt down in front of James and ripped off a chunk of the Investigator's flesh and tossed it to him. James instantly grabbed it and consumed it in no time flat. It was surreal how quickly he became adjusted to the thought of consuming human flesh. "You know, I've only heard stories about guys like you. They say One-Eyes are naturally stronger than normal Ghouls, but they can only come around by unnatural methods." The boy tore off another piece of flesh and gave it to James, who was staring at him longingly. The sweet taste of the woman's blood rushing over his tongue and down his throat filled James with utmost satisfaction. He could understand why AB was the boy's favorite now.

"So, do you have a name, guy?" The boy asked as he took another bite of the Investigator's neck area.

James lifted his head from the leftovers of his meal, and struggled to force the words to come from his mouth. His hunger was becoming his main concern rather than conversation with a stranger.

"My… My name is James." He muttered between bites of the Investigator.

The boy ran one of his hands through his messy hair and scratched his head. "Well, James, it's a 'pleasure' to meet you, I guess. My name's…" He began, but was cut off by the sound of sirens blaring from afar. He turned his head toward the noise and sighed. "Shit! Someone must've heard us and called the CCG." He quickly turned his head back to James. "You might wanna get off your ass, guy. We need to get out of here." He held his hand out to James, who hesitated at first before taking it. He pulled James up to his feet and began running as fast as he could. His speed surprised James immensely. James knew Ghouls were faster and stronger than humans naturally, but this boy's speed was beyond that of any other Ghoul James had ever seen or studied. James started to run after him in hopes of not losing him, though he never once came close to catching up to him.

The boy's dark hair flowed freely behind him and his pale skin stood out strongly in the darkness of the city. They both turned corners numerous times while passing through the alleyways of the city. Half of the time James had to guess which side he chose, but thankfully he always managed to pick the right one. Eventually, the boy laid against one of the walls in an alley, lit only by the moon, and waited for James to catch up.

"Hey… Learn to slow down, man…" James said casually as he approached the boy who didn't even look winded. James on the other hand was astonishingly worn out. Every breath he took felt like it could be his last. He had never run that quickly or to that extent in his life. Fear and his hunger were the only things pushing him to follow this stranger.

"Oh shit. My bad man. I'm not used to having people follow me." The boy laughed and smiled. His eyes were gentle and dark. He was friendly, but James could tell that he had seen and done things he hadn't wanted to. His dark hair hanged into his face and almost covered his eyes. He had something on his neck, a necklace of some sort, which hanged down to his sternum. The pendant at the end was a bronze anchor. "By the way, my name's Dante." He held out his hand for James to shake it. "You might want to stick with me if you want to live, One Eye."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"Jonathan!" Aldus whispered forcefully as he nudged his brother. Jonathan brought his gaze over to Aldus, who appeared to be frustrated with him as usual. "Don't you think it's a little disrespectful to be spacing out at a funeral?" Aldus reached up to the collar of his white button down shirt and pulled it. "But look at all these people. Nobody here looks upset, even a little."

Jonathan looked around at the mass of CCG Operatives around them covered in black. The funeral for Professor Anderson, James, and Roman was going on today, although no one knew where they were. They had been missing for more than a month now, so the higher ups in the CCG just publicly announced they were dead. Apparently that was easier to deal with rather than starting a search for the three. "This is the worst possible day for a funeral..." he whispered as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. His blonde hair was slicked back, but he was sweating from the drought-like heat they were stuck in. He unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt and lounged back in his chair. He glanced over to Aldus to see him looking forward emotionlessly, only small beads of sweat crawling down the spaces of his face not covered by his long, dark hair. "Button your shirt back up, brother. I don't want to hear any remarks later about this." Aldus muttered almost undetectably.

"Take it easy, little brother. Who cares what all of these snobs say anyways?" Jonathan whispered sarcastically.

Aldus turned his head to his brother unnaturally sharply. "I care, because I'm the one who will have to deal with it later." He turned his attention back to the current speaker. "I always have to deal with the shit you do, even though I'm never a part of any of it."

Jonathan sighed and looked forward as well, but paid little attention to what was being said. Jonathan knew James and Professor Anderson more than anyone else at the Campus, and neither of them could've possibly been taken out by just any Ghoul. Especially Professor Anderson. Nothing about this situation made any bit of sense, and it all seemed a bit fishy. Jonathan's vision focused on the three coffins at the front of the ceremony, all of them being closed. Jonathan knew it was because there were no bodies in any of them. No one could find the bodies, not that anyone really searched for them.

They could all be alive still, for all any of them knew.

"Now, does anyone have any final words before we set these three unfortunate souls to rest?" The speaker asked the crowd. His eyes grazed across the crowd, but every move he made and every word he said sounded rehearsed and fake to Jonathan. The higher ups couldn't pull a fast one on him this easily. Jonathan stood up suddenly. "Actually, yes. I do have a few things to say." Aldus grabbed at Jonathan's sleeve and tried to pull him down. "Sit back down, brother. Please..." Aldus's eyes begged, but Jonathan just felt like this was something he had to do. "No. This needs to be said." He shook his brother's hand off of him and began walking towards the Speaker. He pushed his way past him, and stood closer to the podium and pulled the mic up closer to his face. He exhaled slowly and looked out at the crowd. There were thousands of faces staring at him all at once, and their reactions were mixed. Some looked angry, others seemed interested, and then there was Aldus who had his head hung low and was face palming. Jonathan began to say something, but was cut off by feedback from the mic. He flinched and heard some laughter in the crowd. He composed himself quickly and leaned his head back to the mic.

"Does none of this seem fishy to anyone else here? I mean, really? A talented new recruit and a seasoned Professor just going missing for a month and then just being considered dead? There is no way just any Ghoul could do something like this. Especially since both of them never left the Campus. When would the Ghoul have even gotten on the Campus? Oh wait, they couldn't have, because we have security that would've notified us the second they stepped on Campus. It just doesn't make any sense."

Someone from the crowd stood up and yelled at Jonathan from afar. "And what proof exactly do you have that they aren't dead?"

Jonathan angled his head slightly. "You want proof? Oh, I'll show you proof..." Jonathan said as he got down from the podium and began walking toward the coffins. Everyone in the crowd stood up in exasperation as he got closer to them. Aldus began walking quickly towards James as he approached the coffin. "Brother! Don't you dare do what I think you're about to do!" He shouted over everyone else's random muttering.

Jonathan paid Aldus no attention as he reached for the coffin near the picture of Roman. He grabbed the handle and pulled it open quickly. There were gasps spread all across the crowd and some were even yelling.

The coffin was empty, just as Jonathan had predicted.

"Now do you all see?!" Jonathan yelled as he moved towards James' supposed coffin. He grabbed the next handle, but then felt a hand grabbing onto the back of his shirt. He turned his head quickly, but was met with a fist with a surprising amount of force behind it. Jonathan was sent flying to the side quickly, but he didn't let go of the coffin and pulled it down with him. He hit the ground hard, and tried to get his vision to focus but couldn't at first. He got to his feet slowly and rubbed his cheek. When his vision settled he saw that Aldus was the one who punched him.

"Fucking stop it..." Aldus said as he breathed heavily. "Why do you always do this? We get it, you're skeptical of the higher ups. But that doesn't give you the right to try and bring the attention to yourself. Not everything should revolve around you, brother!" Aldus screamed.

Jonathan glanced at the coffin on the ground. The lid was completely open, but there were no contents in it. Jonathan brought his eyes back up to Aldus. He walked towards him slowly at first, but then broke into a sprint. He grabbed Aldus by the shirt collar and jacked him up off the ground. "You really think I'm doing this all to bring attention to myself? Fuck no! Brother, I'm trying to make all these other people realize the higher ups just gave up on James and the others! They could all still be out there, being tortured for all we know! Shit, we don't know anything at all! Do you just not care, like the higher ups?!" Jonathan could see small drops of his spit on Aldus' glasses from where he was yelling.

Aldus brought his knee up into Jonathan's stomach, forcing him to bend over. When Aldus felt his foot touch the ground, he brought his elbow down on the back of Jonathan's head, sending him facedown into the grass they were standing on. Aldus took his glasses off and wiped them clean with his shirt, and put them back on. He fixed the top of shirt before unbuttoning only the top button. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I don't care at all." He turned around from his brother and turned his head back towards him. "Or maybe I just know when to keep my god damn mouth shut." He walked away and left the ceremony without another word to anyone.

It took a moment for Jonathan to slip back into consciousness, and when his vision became clear he no longer saw Aldus. He brought himself to his feet with only a slight groan and walked over to Dr. Anderson's coffin. He only opened it slightly, enough to where only he could see, and then shut it loudly. He shook his head and wiped away tears as he walked out of the funeral.

Dr. Anderson's coffin was not empty. There was a body in there. It was definitely Dr. Anderson's body as well, as it had his broad shoulders. It was wearing the signature attire of the 2nd ranking Investigators as well, which was his ranking. The only tie that Dr. Anderson's ever wore was also tied perfectly on his attire. There was only one thing wrong with the body that brought Jonathan to tears.

The body's head had been mashed in, and the higher ups had zero intention of hiding that. They wanted Jonathan, the rest of the campus, and all of the other professors to know that Dr. Anderson was murdered. Not just by anyone though. No, Dr. Anderson was murdered by a Ghoul.

"I'll make them pay..." Jonathan whispered as he took off his black coat and threw it behind him. "I will avenge you, Dr. Anderson, and I WILL find out what happened to James and Roman..."

James could not follow Dante's movements, he could only hear the wind breaking and a sharp whistle before feeling a shockwave being sent through his right ribcage. James gagged and coughed up a small amount of blood. Dante wasn't holding back here, and now that was evident to James. James flew through the air a few feet before slamming into a wall. He barely caught himself when he finally landed back on the ground. "Fuck..." He muttered as he held his nearly fractured ribs.

"I warned you I wasn't holding back for you, didn't I?" Dante said sarcastically as he slowly walked toward James. "Keep this up and maybe we won't have to worry about another Ghoul killing you." He brought his palm up to his chin and pushed it quickly to the side, making his neck crack loudly. "Cause it seems like I'll be your death at this rate."

James brought himself to his feet and let go of his side. "It's going to take a hell of a lot more than that to kill me, Dante..." While James was a master at Ghoul physiology, he also had a keen eye and could pick up on things no normal spectator could. He and Dante had been sparring like this since the sun came up, and he could tell that Dante was a master at striking. However, Dante had not once tried to grapple with him nor take him down to the ground. That must be his weakness, he had no experience with grappling. " _I can use those mixed martial arts classes finally.._." James thought excitedly. James got into a crouched stance and balanced his weight evenly on his feet.

Dante tilted his head curiously. "That's different. You actually look like you want to fight back." Dante disappeared momentarily and reappeared in front of James with his right arm pulled back, ready to explode into James' chest. "How interesting." Dante said mockingly as he drove his fist towards James. However, now James was prepared for Dante's strike. He no longer wanted simply to dodge Dante's attacks, but instead brought his arm's together to block the attack. Dante did not slow down his attack, as he assumed there would be nothing particularly special about James' block. Dante's fist collided with James' arms with a crack that filled the air between the two. Dante's eyes went wide with pain as he looked at his hand. The force of the blow broke every single finger and a majority of his hand. It felt like he had just punched a wall of pure iron. He stepped back slowly, but in the blink of an eye James had already reacted and had gotten behind Dante. James was crouched low, and had his arms wrapped around Dante's waist. James stomped into the ground leaving a small crater where his foot was and lifted Dante off of the ground with all his might. As he lifted Dante in the air, James bent his back to pull Dante back down to the ground headfirst. There was another loud cracking noise as Dante's head made contact with the ground and the room filled with dust. James crawled out of the new crater he had made and rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling above him.

"How was that for fighting back, Dante...?" He said in the same sarcastic tone Dante had used on him before.

As Jonathan opened the door of his car, he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Wait..." Came a soft voice that sounded winded. When he turned around completely he saw that the hand belonged to Sarah Adams, a classmate and mutual friend of James. Jonathan gently brushed her hand off of his shoulder and rubbed his nose from the face-plant earlier. "What could you possibly want with me, Ms. Adams?" Jonathan said in a snarky tone.

"I want to help you find out what happened to James..." She said as she looked down to the ground. "I... I just know that he couldn't have just been killed, like you said. I believe you, and I want to help prove your theory is right." She brought her head back up and stared into Jonathan's eyes. Her eyes were teary, but she bore a determined look that all women seem to have.

"Fine, I'll let you help. Just don't prove to be a hindrance to my investigation though, okay? James was someone I came to be very close to in our short time together, so I refuse to fail him. Him... Roman AND Dr. Anderson, since you seemed to forget." Jonathan said mockingly as he got in his car and shut the door. He rolled the window down on the driver's side and looked at Sarah's flabbergasted face. "Hurry the hell up, woman. We don't have all day, get in my car with me." Sarah jumped at Jonathan's snappy attitude and ran over to the other side of his car and got in. Before she could even close the door entirely, Jonathan slammed on the gas pedal and the two of them sped off from the funeral.

"We have a lot of plans to discuss, so I suggest you get comfy and listen." Jonathan said as he pulled a pair of black sunglasses from his sun visor and slid them on. "Now that I've officially become a part of the CCG, I'm going to be able to handle the work from the outside. I'm going to be scouting out areas, interrogating any Ghoul I can find secretly, and listening in on information that might be useful from the streets. However, as an Investigator, I can only have so much access to information the CCG keeps for the higher ups." Jonathan said as he slowed down to not speed through the upcoming red light.

Sarah looked at him curiously. "But what does that have to do with me?" She asked as she narrowed her eyes at Jonathan.

Jonathan quickly pointed his finger at her and poked her nose. "I'm glad you asked, My Dear."

Sarah swatted Jonathan's hand away from her face with the force he would've expected from a man. "Don't ever put your hand in my face again." She said promptly and coldly.

Jonathan yelped and grabbed his hand. "You and Aldus are just alike. Everyone is being an ass today, it seems." He said as he rolled his eyes behind his glasses. The red light they were stopped at suddenly turned green and Jonathan almost just as suddenly slammed on the gas again, sending Sarah flying backwards into her seat. "This is the role I have planned out for you. See, while I'm out doing the work of an Investigator, I need you to infiltrate the CCG from the inside. I need you to be my eyes and ears from the inside." He slid his glasses halfway down his nose and looked Sarah in her eyes. "I need you to help me steal classified information from the CCG, Sarah Adams. Are you willing to be a spy, if it means being reunited with James?"

Sarah lowered her head and crumpled up the black skirt she was forced to wear today. She thought of all the work that she had done up to this point to try and become a member of the CCG and how all of this hard work could be taken away in an instant if she was caught. She would take the fall, and there could be a very likely chance that Jonathan would not be blamed for any of it. After all, she was stealing information while he was merely doing his job. Then, an image of James' smiling face shot through her mind. His short red hair blowing in the wind, and his deep eyes that looked like an ocean of wonders in his eyes. How she loved to get lost at sea in those eyes, and how she longed to run her fingers down his smooth skin and soft cheeks. A single tear fell from her face onto her black skirt and she realized she had her answer. James would have done the same for her, if not more.

"Yes. I will do anything it takes to be with him again, Jonathan." She said sternly.

Jonathan smirked and brought his attention back to the road. "Good. I guess our team is all set, with the exception of one member..." Jonathan muttered as he thought of Aldus and how much he seemed to hate Jonathan. Thunder crashed suddenly and rain began to fall furiously onto the windshield of Jonathan's car. "How ironic. The angels cry after the funeral is over."

The smoke from the crater James created still flooded through the air of the training room. James finally managed to bring himself to his feet and had to keep his hands on his knees to stay upright. "Shit... My body is covered in bruises and scrapes. This guy really is something else, it seems..." James said between short breathes. "Maybe I overdid this a bit, eh Dante?" James laughed for the first time since he had been turned, but his joy was cut short by his body suddenly being dragged down to the ground and then lifted in the air. He was too tired and confused to react properly and only stared around to see if he could see anything. Almost too late, James looked up to his foot and saw a pulsing red tentacle wrapped around his ankle. It was a kagune holding him up in the air.

"I hate to disagree with you, James." Came a familiar voice as the smoke in the room began to dissipate. Standing in front of James was Dante, who was rubbing his head and getting dust out of his muffled hair. "That was a good move though. A German Suplex was the last thing I was expecting from you, to be honest. If it wasn't for the smoke covering up the fact that I was protecting my head from making contact with my other three tentacles, then you could've followed that up with an attack that actually would've done damage." Dante swiftly brought his fist, which at some point already fully healed, into James stomach and sent him flying. "But, that's what you SHOULD'VE done. Maybe you'll learn that after I kick your ass a little more."

James rolled when he made impact with the floor, and saved himself more pain. He was already back at his feet and in his fighting stance from before, prepared for Dante's next onslaught of attacks. _Things will probably be different now that he knows I can out-grapple him, and that my arms aren't susceptible to pain. I need a new plan._ James narrowed his eyes and focused in on Dante's slow movements. He was trudging towards James, taking his time. Maybe he was mocking him? Or rather trying to psych him out for a quick follow-up attack? Then, for a split of a second, Dante vanished and appeared in front of James again. This time however, James was not prepared. He looked straight into Dante's eyes and watched the light in them get swallowed by the black and his irises become the bright scarlet color they had the night they met. Dante's white shirt then suddenly burst into pieces off of his body, exposing his vulnerable torso. Dante was a few inches shorter than James, and he had much less muscle, but his body was compact and lean. His signature four tentacles of his kagune shot out of his back and flowed behind him like wings in a breeze. James recognized the positioning of them as that of a _rinkaku,_ however no other Ghoul had as many tentacles as Dante did. Just another thing that set him apart from other Ghouls, it seemed. Dante spun his body at an untraceable speed, and was bringing another wind-splitting kick towards James' head. _Not this time!_ James yelled internally and brought his arms up to protect his head. _If this has the same effect on his leg as it did his arm, then I should have another opportunity to grapple him down. This time, I'll make sure I keep the pressure on him though._ James dug his foot into the ground to brace for impact.

"You underestimate me, James Anderson." Dante whispered at a volume only James could hear. Dante stopped his kick suddenly, mid-swing, right before it made contact with James' arm. "I'm not making the same mistake twice, fool." Dante then slammed one of his tentacles into the exposed side of James' head. The impact was loud, and Dante could see a few of James' teeth fly out of his mouth as he floated in the direction of the blow. "I wasn't planning to use my kagune this quickly against you, but you forced my hand." He slammed another of his tentacles into the opposite side of James' head, sending him floating back towards where he was originally. His eyes had gone white and Dante could tell he was on the brink of unconsciousness. "And to be honest, you pissed me the hell off." Dante then brought his kick that was stopped before down onto James' chin. James was slammed face first into the ground, a loud cracking noise that must've been his jaw filling the room that was followed by a sound similar to that of an explosion. Another crater almost the size of the one James was formed, and at the bottom lay James' body hanging limp with his head buried in the ground.

Dante jumped down to the bottom and stood by James. He crouched down and poked at his side. "It's not so fun being slammed into the ground headfirst, is it dick?" He stood up slowly and brushed the dust off of his black sweatpants. "I think this is enough for today though, so enjoy your little dirt nap, bud." He then began to walk away, but stopped after a few steps when he felt something on his right heel. He looked down and saw four black fingers wrapped around his leg, and a small puddle of blood forming under the ground where a head of orange hair was hanging. James lifted his head and stared Dante in his eyes. One of James' eyes was now black and crimson, like it was the night Dante found him. _He must finally be ready to get serious..._

"No... Don't leave yet." James brought himself to his feet and got back into his familiar stance. He had a steady stream of blood flowing from the side of his mouth and the top of his head down onto one side of his face. "I'm not even close to being done here, Dante. So don't you underestimate me too, you hear me?" He clenched both his fists together and cracked all of the knuckles in his fingers at once. "Come. Do your worst, _Sensei_."

Chills sprinted through Dante's body at the look James was giving him. He was so determined and the ocean that lie in his eye was now covered by the intensity of a blaze. Dante shook his head and began laughing with pure joy. "Now that is the look you should give everyone you fight, James!" He regained his posture and then crouched down low, his kagunes flowing freely through the air above him. "But don't resent me for this. You asked for it, after all."

Aldus could feel his thick hair sticking to his face from the rain. He had always loved the rain, but today everything he thought he loved seemed to do nothing but piss him off. Especially his brother. He clenched his teeth as he recalled how reckless his brother was acting. Jonathan has always been skeptical of the higher-ups, but acting out like this at a public event was only begging for trouble to be brewed. Trouble that even Aldus could not protect Jonathan from, no matter what he tried. Jonathan most likely did not know it, but the beating Aldus had given to him was only to make him stop acting out. _That dumb bastard... How could he think I don't care what happened to James? Of course I care..._ He thought as he turned down an alley to escape the sea of pedestrians he was lost in.

The alley was dark and damp, but the tops of the surrounding buildings protected it from direct downpour. The only water that dripped down here was from the buildings. Aldus kept his head down as he walked deeper into the darkness, ignoring the few homeless people he passed on the way. Two children suddenly ran by him and he instantly thought of himself and Jonathan. The two of them survived day after day in the alleys of New New York, somehow managing to avoid contact with Ghouls after their parents had been found dead. The cause of their parent's death was never brought forward, but now Aldus assumed it to be at the hand of a Ghoul. It would not surprise him. He clenched his hand in his pocket and heard some of his knuckles pop. _Why is it always us they take from..? Humanity is always suffering at the hand of those... those monsters. This just isn't fair at all..._

"Aldus Archer, I assume?" Came a deep voice suddenly, resonating through the cramped walls of the alleyway. Aldus lifted his head quickly and brushed his wet hair out of his face. Standing at the end of the alleyway was a very tall, masculine man with a buzzed head and a scruffy beard who was surrounded bymen in black suits. Aldus could not see them, but he knew all of them were most likely carrying quinques. Weapons like guns and knives had become so out of fashion now, as Ghouls were the main causes of mugging and murder in the streets nowadays. He also knew that the man was a higher-up in the CCG, as he was wearing the signature white trench coat that they all wore. The man lowered his head slightly, but kept eye contact with Aldus. "I have business to discuss with you, my boy."

"You assumed right." Aldus said as he pushed his glasses up nonchalantly and continued to walk towards the end of the alleyway. When he came face to face with the man, his bodyguards circled around him and made any sort of escape for him impossible. Aldus pushed the bangs of his hair to the side and wiped his glasses clear. When he put them back on, he made direct eye contact with the main man again. "Now what do you mean by business?"

The man smiled menacingly. "Well, as you know, James and Joseph Anderson's death have caused quite a controversy with your elder brother. And your brother seems to enjoy causing problems for those of us higher on the food chain, and those problems just so happen to be... Well, problems for us." The man shrugged with both of his shoulders and scoffed. "The last thing we need is a flea questioning the actions of us hawks."

 _Damn you Jonathan... Has word spread this quickly of your outburst..?_ Aldus thought as he clenched his teeth. He took a deep breath and regained his composure. "Oh yeah? Well, I don't mean to sound rude, but that sounds like a personal problem to me. I'm not entirely sure what any of that has to do with me. I'm not the one doing shit against the higher-ups here."

The man took two steps towards Aldus and rubbed his chin with his hand. "Well, you are his brother after all. Who better could we rely on to monitor the activities of a potential rogue Investigator?"

Aldus jumped at the shock of the man's statement. "Wait what?!" He yelled as he took a large step toward the man. When he did though, the man's guards also took a large step towards the both of them. Aldus looked around nervously and calmed himself again. He was confident in his fighting abilities, but against this many people at once he was at a huge disadvantage. "You can't possibly be serious right now. My brother would never do anything like that. Sure, he's reckless and kind of... well, obnoxious at times, but he would never do anything to betray the CCG. I know him better than anyone else, so you can trust me on this."

"If only it was that easy." The man said as he stroked his beard. "The public has already become suspicious of the CCG with the increase in deaths in the past month. They think we aren't doing our job, and the government is just looking for any excuse to shut us down and have a larger excess of money. All they really need is a catalyst, and that could potentially be the end of us as we know it. And when we're gone, there really will be no one left to protect New New York."

The man was obviously trying to guilt trip Aldus into going along with the intentions of the higher-ups, but he too could see straight through his fake concerns about the public. "So you think my brother could be that catalyst?" Aldus asked, though he already knew the answer.

"I believe your brother's actions should have given you that answer, my boy." The man said calmly.

"Then tell me, where exactly do I come into his equation? How exactly am I going to be able to monitor Jonathan's activities? I still have two years until I can become an Investigator as well. That seems to be something you lot forgot."

The man laughed instantly. "Oh no, we have a plan to take care of that as well. As you'll find out, we have a plan to take care of everything." The man held out his hand and smirked cockily. "So do we have a deal?"

Aldus squinted at the man and began dwelling in thought. Jonathan had always been a protective brother, hell, most likely the best brother Aldus could ask for. He was always around when Aldus needed him, and even when he didn't particularly want him around. He always made it his first intention to care for Aldus even if it was at the cost of his own happiness, but somehow he always ended up doing something to get himself in trouble. Once that happened, Aldus would be left to pick up the broken pieces of whatever predicament they were stuck in now because of Jonathan's recklessness. This was how it always was. Every. Damn. Time. Jonathan also always managed to live his life in the spotlight, leaving Aldus to shiver in his shadow. He was naturally good at everything he did and never really put effort into anything, while Aldus would train until his skin began falling off his hands and feet.

 _No... No more, Brother. Never again will I live in your shadow._

Aldus took the man's hand and squeezed it tightly. "We have a deal, _Boss_."

The man smirked and gripped Aldus' hand painfully tight. "Just call me Gordan for now. Knowing my real name would add nothing to our goal. All we need is your loyalty, Investigator Archer."

Thunder echoed through New New York's sky, and the rain continued its downpour for the next two weeks. Jonathan looked up to the sky from his designated seat. Out of everyone in his class, only 37 cadets were graduating. 37 out of 188 were considered worthy of the title of Investigator, and only he was being given the title of 2nd Grade Investigator. Jonathan knew he should be happy about this achievement, since he was making history, but for the past two weeks nothing has just felt right. He hadn't seen Aldus since the funeral, and he had no idea where he could be. This was the longest he had not seen Aldus, and the distance was eating away at him. He missed Aldus. Jonathan snapped back at attention when the Campus Director began naming names of the graduates. Naturally, he called Jonathan first. "We have a special announcement for this specific graduate though, ladies and gentlemen. For the first time ever, we have a graduate graduating with the honor of being a 2nd Grade Investigator." Jonathan stood up and began walking towards the center of the stage. He lowered his head and let the Director place a medal around his neck, and took the badge he was holding. It was cold in his hand, but Jonathan's happiness helped him keep hold of it. "Would the graduate like to give a few words to the audience gathered?" The Director said with a smile. Jonathan walked up to the podium and brought the microphone closer to his face. A sudden chill of Deja Vu ran through his skin as he cleared his throat. "I don't really want to keep you all here forever, so I'll make this short. I'm deeply honored to have this opportunity to do what I can to protect New New York, and I promise I will do everything I am able to to protect as many lives as I can. I want to thank everyone who has been a part of my life so far, but more than any I would like to thank my brother for always being there for me. I would also like to thank Professor Anderson, for acting as a father figure when I had needed one and teaching me things I would not have learned on my own. May he rest in peace. And I would also like to thank James Anderson for being a friend and the best roomy I could ask for." He lowered his head and slowly walked back to his seat. He did not lift his head for the rest of the ceremony, as everything just began sounding the same. All Jonathan could think about was Aldus. _Just where could you be, brother..._

"And now, we have another special announcement for you all." The Director said, and Jonathan lifted his head back up. He wasn't informed of anything else special happening today. "Again, we have a first happening. We have with us, today, the first graduate to leave two years early with the rank of 3rd Grade Investigator. Everyone, let's give a hand to Aldus Archer."

Jonathan turned his head slowly, his eyes wide with surprise. At the back of the crowd was Aldus, with a calm and stoic face. Jonathan stood up suddenly and clenched his fist. "Aldus! Where the hell have you been for the past two weeks?!" He stomped over to Aldus as he was walking towards the podium. Jonathan stopped in front of him, but Aldus shoved his way past him. At first Jonathan was shocked, but now he felt nothing but anger. He walked in front of his brother again and lifted him up by the collar of his shirt. "Don't fucking ignore me, Brother! I asked you a fucking question, now answer me! What the hell are you doing here?!"

Aldus could only smirk. "Didn't you hear? I'm here making history." Aldus shoved Jonathan backwards, making Jonathan stumble a bit. "I'm not living in the shadow you cast behind anymore."


End file.
